


Abandon

by LadyKG



Category: Death Note, Naruto
Genre: Crossover, DN/Naruto crossover, Death Note x Naruto xover, Gen, I dont know what to tag, Literally And Figuratively, Pre-Slash, Uchiha Obito is trying, for now at least. I have ideas, haunted by ghosts as he is, honestly death note is too dark for more than pre-slash, just read it, please, post-naruto-saved-him-Obito, really just a fun fic, so deal.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 71,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7047142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKG/pseuds/LadyKG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is said that you either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain. Obito became that villain, and then a blonde boy bright as the sun saved him, letting him die as himself. So why is he waking up? And why can’t he get back? All the doors have been shut. Locked. His reality abandoning him to a dimension not his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opener of Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Only saying this ONCE: Don't own Naruto. Don't own Death Note.
> 
> This is a Naruto/Death Note crossover, and follows the death note timeline with some pretty obvious changes to come.
> 
> The Obito going into that world, for anyone who gets confused, is the one Naruto saved – the one killed by Kaguya, after he was taken over by Zetsu and everything. So him having white hair and both sharingans is because of that.
> 
> And this will start slowly at first, fair warning – well sort'a slowly, not as slow as Death Note because damn that dragged on and on and on and on. (No matter how much I like DN I can admit that).
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy! And please review!

The ground was wetly cool to the touch as if rain had recently broken the barrier between the sky and earth. His scarred skin braced against it, cheek digging into the strange soil that felt so lacking in something his fuzzy mind couldn't place. An unknown material scraped his palms as he slid his arms to try and lever himself into a defendable position.

Pushing off the hard ground made muscles protest with a fiery ripping, sending him crashing once more into the strange earth. Biting back the groan that wanted to leave him the Uchiha gritted his teeth and forced sore limbs to move. He couldn't stay face down on the ground. His instincts wouldn't let him; raging too loudly at how vulnerable the position left him to attack.

It took embarrassingly long to move his aching body to lean against the wall to his right, his lungs heaving with the simple effort. Scanning what looked to be a deep alleyway the Uchiha was grateful for the lack of any other presence. His situation was humiliating enough without an audience; an s-class missing-nin capable of taking on Biju, downed in the back allies of some civilian town. (It couldn't be a largely shinobi village, for the distinct lack of chakra signatures in the surrounding area was too great.

Abnormally so, in fact.)

Prodding at his own chakra stores, Obito found them lacking. Suitable to last him in a fight long enough to escape but no more than that; not nearly enough should a formidable opponent come.

Though if anyone with even a trace of chakra entered into his range of sensing it would be a bright beacon with how deprived of energy the area was. Even the very earth seemed to disappear from beneath him when he sent out inquisitive bursts of chakra.

But he still needed to move, staying in one place for too long would risk discovery more than he already had. He needed to move and get back to the base, back to Madara and Zetsu because he couldn't leave them on their own to... _No,_ that didn't sound right; _why didn't that sound right?_

A hand went up to clutch his head, tangling in dry white locks while his mind blanked as to what had last occurred. The lack of moisture shocked him; if it had recently rained then why was he dry? And why couldn't he remember how he ended up in this strange place?

A flash of a field over pouring with hundreds of anonymous faces filled his mind, a rushing of confusion followed soon after. A flash of orange, blue the colour of the sky and a personality rivaling the sun. A smile, a grey eye. A mask, and purple marks on soft cheeks that he wanted to reach out and stroke but something too similar to guilt pulled his arm back. The images disappeared before he could fully grasp them.

His breathing quickened as he realized the gaping wound in his memories, the missing pieces that fall out of place in the puzzle around the time he felt himself wake up – his old self, the self that was all but destroyed under Madara’s tender cares and that accursed seal.

The smells that met his nose due to the vicious onslaught of panicked breathes gripping his torso in spasms were all foreign. A thickness to the air that polluted his lungs and forced him to cough to rid his body of the stale presence.

Minutes passed with the only sounds distant and unimportant as they never seemed to come closer. It was then that he felt his limbs lesson in pain, his healing factor finally having kicked in – slower than normal, but everything in him felt sluggish.

The ach slowly disappeared and by the time he was able to remove his hands from their state of tearing at his hair his breathing had evened.

He needed to move. Find out where he was and then work from there.

Staggering to his sandal clad feet Obito leaned against the wall for support till his addled mind could find its balance. One step at a time he followed the rough building side to the exit he could barely see from his position in the darkness. All the while pulling incessantly at the cloak of a wall blocking out the most recent events. The events that would tell him how he went from a world of shinobi and battles, with a war laid out at his feet of his own making, to this. How he went from fighting by the side of one Uzumaki Naruto, the boy who awoke a long lost part of him he thought buried and dead, to weakened limbs and stumbling muscles.

He needed to know so that he could go back, go back and help the shinobi alliance… _yes, that sounded right._ But so wrong at the same time, so wrong because the memories were rushing back, rushing like a damn had burst and the great whirlpools of Uzushio were raging in his very being.

Kaguya.

Team seven.

Kakashi.

Sakura.

Sasuke.

Naruto.

Death.

A bright light swallowing, decaying, crumbling the very fibers threading his soul together. Untangling the strings that stuck his body to the earth as an existence and erasing their hold.

_Death._

_He should be dead._

He wanted to rage, to scream his questions to the sky as to why he had survived. He was ready, so very ready to die, to let the life force drain from him with the insurance that those he was leaving behind would not fall, could not fall. He was happy to perish in that moment, having stood beside those he called precious for one last time, having done something _right_ before he said his goodbyes.

He was ready to see Rin once more.

Squeezing burning eyes shut the man stumbled another handful of steps, trying to deny the stain of wet tracks down his face even as they multiplied.

 _‘Rin,’_ his mind begged, prayed, whispered, _‘Rin.’_

The ghosting of a gentle touch ran over his cheek, the scent of home covering the stench of this strange place. The fingers began tracing the path of his tears before finally the feeling of a hand cupping the side of his face with tenderness snapped him back into reality. His eyes shot open wide, he knew that scent, knew those fingers – had felt them prodding at his wounds enough to recognize them anywhere.

“Rin?” His throat quivered out with a hopefulness that he would have never let his heart feel had it not been for Naruto. A hopefulness that burned bright for all of a second before sputtering back into an ember resting over his heart when there was no trace of the girl to be found. Only cracks in the foundation of the building he leaned on, the corrosive feeling of not-right air entering his lungs. Only the sound of feet hitting earth muffled by a strange roar that passed with a flash of brighter light from the entrance to the alley.

Gritting his teeth against the familiar, painful throb in his chest Obito stumbled across the last remaining portion of his path, leaning into the building and shadows to remain unseen by anyone walking past.

The sight that his eyes fell upon left him speechless.

Strange contraptions wheeled past at speeds greater than any civilian pulled cart he had seen, they were driven by no animal and yet they moved forward as if through their own free will. He sensed no chakra powering them. The few glimpses he managed to grasp of their insides as they passed showed people seated. The exterior shined, and seemed to come in an endless array of colours.

While many rolled across a peculiar black substance spread over the ground others were motionless, pulled up to what he presumed to be a pathway. Lighter in colour than the black road the wheeled machines pulled themselves across, and filled with a few scattered people; from whom he could not sense even a civilian level chakra signature.

As one strolled near his spot of observation Obito took note of the strange clothes these people seemed to favor wearing – certainly civilian in style, and looking to give minimal movement in a proper fight.

Glancing down at his own garbs he noticed their ragged appearance. Dried blood caked in spots, his pants were missing one leg from the knee down and the other had a large smear of brown dirt caking up the side. His shirt missing entirely. Not a look he would want to be caught in.

However, he would concern himself with that later, when he wasn’t more troubled with what place he had landed himself in. It couldn’t possibly be Kaguya’s infinite genjutsu, if it were then his friends would be surrounding him, pulling at him and laughing. Dragging him along with smiles and cheer, tugging at his Hokage robes. If it were to be his perfect world then where was Rin, Sensei, Kakashi? If it were a genjutsu based on the knowledge he held then how would these unknown machines march through it with such precision?

The possibility that this sight was nothing but falsities drawn up from the basis of his dreams and hopes was too demeaning to think further on. Too painful, because it would mean he had made a mistake leaving Naruto and Sasuke to take care of their other-worldly threat. It would mean that the Child of Prophecy failed.

No.

This wasn’t the Mugen Tsukuyomi.

It was something else, something wholly different. A thing that he had played with before, and if events persisted, would do so again. It was an alternate dimension, a step across the streams of reality like skipping-stones thrown to the other side of a riverbank.

He needed to know where he was; what _world_ he had managed to hop to through the dimensional rifts his eye somehow opened. And how he went from deadly impalement to light wounds. He almost groaned in annoyance at how slow his mind was working as realization hit him; he could simply make his way back through opening a door to his world. Or perhaps rest in his personal dimension to regain some strength before re-entering the battle.

A small, nostalgic smile tugged at his lips with such a thought; after all, heroes always did arrive at the last minute, right? Maybe he could truly serve his home properly if he allowed the fates to claim his life once and for all through such an act - like they were meant to when he took Kaguya’s attack before he woke up here. (It would make everything so much easier for those that survive the war after all - because Naruto wouldn’t stand for his execution should he survive, while the other nations would demand it.)

Maybe Kakashi would find peace.

Maybe Minato-sensei would forgive him.

Maybe Rin…

The same brush of fingertips trailed across his shoulders and Obito whipped around faster than an eye could blink, sharingan spinning.

Nothing was there. His eyes narrowed, but he had no time to wonder at the obscenely familiar touches with the weight of an entire world resting on the shoulders of two young boys. No time to spend committing any further ministrations in this dimension, not if he wanted to catch his breath for even a minute prior to his grand entrance to his own funeral. Slipping silently back the way he came Obito stretched his now only mildly-sore body. The healing factor doing its best to right whatever wrongs his sudden and unexpected detour into an alternate reality constituted.

It comes as naturally as breathing to pool chakra into his eyes, allowing the organs to twist the energy and pull at the doors built from the very fibers weaving this universe together. He ignored the small rolling burn that came from doing so, but stored the information away for analysis on the matter later, perhaps explained by the strange thickness he felt from the rift he was opening to slip through. As if he was trying to drag himself over blood-soaked earth turned to mud. Nonetheless he swirled into existence within his world of stacked pillars and grey darkness. Relishing in the comfort that being in such a well-known place brought him – a safe place, his _own_ place.

Taking a breath deep into his welcoming lungs that wasn’t filled with the disconcerting pollution in the other reality calmed the last of his frayed nerves. Let him focus clearly on the situation at hand.

Settling on the ground cross-legged he centered himself, nudging tentative strands of chakra outward in a spiraling search for the correct dimension – he couldn’t afford to aim wrong. And maybe this was taking precaution a step too far, but when the future of his home may rest on his ability to return he thought it was completely warranted. Not at all a result of a childish shyness at facing his old teammate again after such a sentimental farewell.

He found it easily – within one breath and the next. Drawing back the other strands from his spider web of chakra Obito rose with deadly grace to his feet. He paused then, because his chakra stores were low, low enough that he won’t stand a chance against Kaguya and her rage at humanity. And even though the knowledge that going into this with his body in the state it was now he won’t survive made the larger portion of him relieved, another, traitorous part of himself wanted to live.

If he were to look too closely at how easily that portion was squashed to sit next to his ember of hope resting like a scar on his heart Obito might have found it terrifying.

He didn’t look too closely.

Pushing chakra to his eyes once more and focusing on the last remaining strand connecting him to the very door he needed to push through the Uchiha took one final breath and activated kamui.

Nothing happened.

Or, more precisely, it felt as if he had been smashed into a wall by one of the Kyuubi’s many tails and yet as he opened his eyes he found himself still in his own world. Staggering to regain the balance he lost from the unforeseen backlash of his jutsu, Obito rubbed at his aching orbs – a feeling they have not experienced since the integration of Senju cells.

Letting out a growl at the failure he pushed back against the door once more, his sharingans spinning as they lock more forcefully on the pathway to his home.

It hurt worse the second time.

Letting out a noise of frustration the white-haired man delicately tested the door that should be opening for his entry. It snapped back at him, a vicious attack against the chakra that demanded it give way.

He didn’t know how much time passed. It was all irrelevant in his kamui world where there was no sun, no moon or stars to mark the ticking of passed seconds. Time acting as just another dimension that, if only he could grasp how, he could reach out and manipulate. If only – a wishful thought, one that Naruto no doubt would hold should he have known the full extent of Obito’s abilities. One that the brash blonde would act on because he _‘didn’t want to ever say ‘should have’’._ One that would willingly be granted for the fates have always loved the fools driven by their objection to giving up. But his powers were now restricted for reasons he couldn’t determine. As if seals had been placed to lock him out and he had not been offered even a riddle for discovering the key.

All doors had been shut.

Locked.

Lost.

Only one was left for him to reach and open without protest from an ungraspable force. Only that one which communed to a world he did not know, did not _want_ to know – if only due to a bitter revulsion based on biased standing, because he had placed that reality as a scape-goat for his own imprisonment inside of it.

He didn’t stop trying, not until his eyes were bleeding and his body was convulsing with the pain it took to pull chakra into the pathways around his sharingans. And not even then. Not even then did he give up on that world opening its doors to him because Naruto wouldn’t give up, and Obito had no right to do anything less when the blonde haired boy’s life was on the line.

He didn’t stop until his body collapsed under him, until he couldn’t draw on any more chakra for his reserves had been bled dry for the first time in years. In one breathe and the next he was closing his burning eyes, pulled into darkness with the feel of a hand running through his white locks – the same that cupped his cheek and followed the tracks of his tears.

The very same that healed him when he was once a young boy with big dreams and bright smiles.

When his eyes pulled open the hands were gone, but he felt no pain for the first time since he woke in that strange world. No ach in his muscles, no lightening jolt in his eyes, no discomfort to taking in oxygen.

 

Anger was the first emotion that he felt after the rampage of denial. It twisted into frustration before settling on a resignation that had him lying flat on his back arms and legs spread haphazardly around him. The last strands of desperate hope pushed his mind blankly over ideas that were quickly discarded; theories too easily disproved.

One door.

One door was all that he had the ability to walk through.

If he were a lesser man then perhaps the state of inaction would last longer. If he were not the man woken from his own flaws by an Uzumaki Child of Prophecy the defaulted hate held for that world beyond the door would rule him. If he were anyone other than Uchiha Obito who raised an organization built with shinobi of all nations and wishes. Who was once a boy of Konohagakure, with the will of fire burning bright, and with the Fourth as his sensei. If he were anyone other than what his life and those experiences to the very end had made him.

This and curiosity. This and a daring hope that that realm would hold the answers to this mystery was what made his decision to open the door.

There was no thickness slugging along his body as he activates the jutsu, no feeling of having his chakra drag him into a river of mud. Instead a bizarre sensation as if a puzzle piece had finally snapped into place pervaded his being. Not unlike when he first activated his sharingan, where everything was finally clear and he could _see;_ like a lost part of himself had finally slotted into its rightful position.

Obito whirled into existence in the same alley as he had exited this reality from, though the position of the sun was evidence that he had spent time from its grasp. Working logically from here was his only option; gather intel, then integrate himself into their society and become a ghost. That was his first mission, from there he can work out how to return, test and stretch his powers to their limits. If need required he could form a group much like the Akatsuki to gather information for him. He may have been enlightened by Naruto but he was still first and foremost a shinobi, a killer, someone to pay for jobs most wouldn’t dream of completing through their own hands. And if his speculations were correct than, like any other society, this one ran using some form of currency to trade for goods or services. With that being the case he would require a job to live, to pay for food and shelter, to blend into the masses until he could escape.

The first act of his self-imposed mission was to pinpoint an area of research, while his clones – henged into various disguises – mingled into the crowded streets and listened in on differing conversation. And hopefully locate a nondescript job Obito could take on in order to gain a form of income, or even a place of residence that he could shelter himself in.

Finding a library was easy enough, the public and unrestricted nature of the institute only aiding in his plight. Sending out an army of disguised clones to read as much material as they could and gather as much intelligence on this world’s history and contemporary living conditions as possible was even simpler.

By the end of the week he had established the general history of this world, the name of each country and the geography of this Japan that he had apparently landed himself in. Gone over much of what their recent events and leaps in technological advancements had led to and, though none of the feats they can commit were as far reaching as those produced with chakra, some were extensively impressive. Cars, for example, being the primary mode of transport seemed wholly convenient and yet from what memories he had of their bulk and their inability to do much else than move one from location to location they were too single-tasked. Their apparent effect on the environment and air quality drew even more cons he surmised, remembering with a frown the way the air used to feel entering his lungs when he arrived in this reality – something he had since become used to. (He wasn’t sure whether or not to consider this a good thing or not.)

By the end of two weeks Obito had uncovered the enter underground network of criminals running throughout the area, expertly recognizing those who were amateurs and those with true skill that he would have to look to for aid in building a false identity. By the middle of the third, his clones had already found a suitable working environment for him to take part in, as well as a fairly priced apartment to rent.

The wonders of clones would never cease to amaze him.

They had even managed to find a reliable criminal amongst the large network that would create a series of false papers and trails for him so that he could have an established background should he ever need it.

This constant movement and search for information had kept his mind off of the larger picture of his situation and what he had left behind. A nice distraction from everything he had committed in the past, as this dimension knows nothing of his crimes, his sins, his mistakes. A vacation in a sense, one that would end with him returning to a world where he was justifiably not welcomed – one that may very well be destroyed because he was too late getting back.

“You…n’t…ink…tha…” the whispering of a soft voice caressed his ear, snapping him from his guilt-inducing thoughts and had him spinning uselessly in a circle. The voice barely there, and the words undecipherable, but he could pick it out nonetheless and he _knew_ that voice, had spent _years_ – a life time – dreaming about it.

“Rin?”

Nothing.

“Rin?”

The voice didn’t come again, and he refused to acknowledge the disappointment welling inside of him, shoving it down harshly and continuing on to his destination.

The Uchiha entered the establishment with no genjutsu hugging his form; if he was to acquire false papers for identification then doing so in an illusion would only lead to him needing to stay within that genjutsu at all times. Something that was not only inconvenient and unconventional but also taxing on his chakra. If he were more skilled in seals perhaps then it would be an acceptable means of living, but as the only illusion based seal he knew was a simple forget-me, the dilemma still stood. That was not to even touch on the simple problem of genjutsu not functioning within the realm of digital recordings. Cameras and videos would not depict the illusion, instead show what was truly present. Something he had discovered through his study of the art while under the tutelage of his ancestor.

This was also the first time since entering the world officially that he had deactivated his sharingans, a disconcerting experience to say the least. But one he had no choice but to get used to should he wish to melt into the background unnoticed. Or, at least, as best as his scars would allow.

The building was a dingy place, connected to an old camera shop that smelled like mold and plastic. An older man with lazy eyes and a put-out attitude stared blankly into space from his position at a dirty counter near the back left of the shop. His mouth moving as if he were chewing, and as Obito came closer the sound of something wet being mashed between teeth became clear. Harsh lines wrinkled his face, and dark skin almost covered sunspots that danced under an emotionlessly hard gaze.

Reaching the counter the man looked up at him, eyes scanning his figure.

"Papers?"

Obito nodded once, sharply.

"No contacts," was said tiredly in return, no annoyance present, simply the resignation of someone who had expressed a regulation countless times. Obito blinked in confusion at the man, who promptly pointed with a sigh to his left eye, "bathrooms down the hall and to the right."

Obito frowned but followed the instructions if only to comprehend what the man was speaking of.

The bathroom was even worse, a horrid smell of stale urine that the alcohol just couldn't cover up permitting the entire room. The walls stained a rustic yellow, and the overhead light giving a dull glow. But it had a mirror, however cloudy and scratched, which Obito could utilize.

Peering into the reflective surface he felt a full body shock when his eyes locked onto the sight of a purple orb with spiraling black circles expanding from the pupil. (One he would have seen sooner should he have ever bothered to form a non henged clone.)

His hands lifted of their own accord, forming the proper seal and letting his chakra freeze in his coils for all of a split second before pushing it outward sharply. His eye remained the same.

An event that should be impossible.

That _was_ impossible.

Madara stole his rinnegan, took it from him, and in turn gave him Kakashi’s eye – a fact he knew for certain as he had felt both his sharingans come to life when he activated his dojutsu. Unless, through some strange miracle, he manifested the bloodline himself – an improbability so great and only made more so with the fact he couldn’t seem to deactivate the purple orb. A feat that was possible for those who awoken a dojutsu of this form; those who gained it through other means could not, much like the sharingan.

Activating his sharingans now, to see if perhaps the genjutsu was stronger than he originally thought, he found that his left eye transformed into a layering of the two kekkai genkai. The rinnegan circles gaining tomoe, and the two colours coalesce to form an almost amaranthine tone. When he pushed more chakra into his eyes, forming his mangekyou, the tomoe disappeared and his pinwheel becomes overlain by rings of black.

Pulling his energy away from the pathway to his eyes the left returned to a deep slate grey, almost black, while his right retained the rinnegan’s light purple.

He gritted his teeth at this; first it was the blocking of dimensional travel, and now this.

Only one test remained.

Tossing a kunai to his left Obito breathed deeply, a part of him hoping that nothing would come of what he was about to try, “Bansho Ten’in _(Heavenly Attraction of All Creation_ ),” a purposefully small amount of chakra pulled at his coils and he felt his left eye rush to meet the demanded course of action.

The kunai pulled back towards him and into his outstretched hand. He wanted to yell in frustration, in his lack of understanding and the layers of confusion and mystery piled upon his situation.

However, his priority was to cover the eye, in some manner, as he’s incapable of deactivating it much for the same reason Kakashi could not deactivate Obito's gift to him. Slipping a genjutsu over it would do no good as it presents the same issues that he faced before with a full body illusion. That leaves bandaging the rinnegan until he can find a more permanent solution to hiding it - most likely an eye-patch. It may make him more noticeable, but taken from a different perspective it may lead the people of this dimension to not want to look at him for long, for fear of being rude for staring. Especially when paired with the entirely noticeable scars taking up half of his face.

Pulling out a roll of medical tape from his backpack Obito got to work. Wrapping the eye and part of his head at a slight angle to not affect his other orb. Once the process was complete he repacked his bag and left the stench filled room.

Surprisingly enough the man didn't even blink at the new cloth he adorned, only swiveled in his chair and heaved himself to stand with a muttered complaint of effort and what sounded suspiciously like incompetent customers. The click of a latch marked the opening of a box that was blocked from Obito's view by the man's larger form. The flash of something white in colour being thrown at him made his instincts tense like a coiled whip ready to spring and attack. But the trajectory was off for a weapon, too slow moving to be hostile in nature. What landed in his hands was a fabric square, with looping strings falling from its sides as if to tie.

"Wear it until you get a permanent one," the man explained flatly, vaguely gesturing to his own eye and nodding at the Uchiha, before waving a hand haft-heartedly for Obito to follow.

Obito watched in rapt interest as the man before him typed in information on a computer, his hands flying over the keys as Obito answers each of his questions.

He wanted to ask the man to teach him, because learning a skill such as this would only bring profit in the future. Not in the sense of selling his abilities out to the market at broad, but for the simple reason that should he need to create another false identity at some time in the future it would come in handy.

But… he had priorities at the moment, and he knew, on some level, that he could place the man under a genjutsu and extract all of this through shinobi methods. And he knew that using logic to explain his potential course of action here by claiming it would help him create a network of informants, and that it would keep him more anonymous were all lies in the end. But they helped cover up the slivering snake of a part of himself that despaired at the thought of being alone – being left out, an outcast. Despaired at the idea of using and abusing someone so easily.

The part of him that believed, above all else, in Uzumaki Naruto and everything the boy stood for.

But he wasn’t Naruto, couldn’t find the good in everyone - as the small actions of kindness reach out to warm the Uzumaki’s heart, his closed off, perpetually guarded one felt nothing. He was a good judge of character but only in regards to manipulation and knowing just where to push, cut, threaten, humor, offer in order to guide a willing or not victim right to where he wanted them. Where Naruto saw friends, comrades, people to be saved, Obito saw pawns, cannon fodder, people to be used.

No matter how the blonde affected him this had yet to change completely.

Which was why he left, bowed his head in a small thank you out of respectful acknowledgement of skill and offered services. Departed with a promise to himself that he would think on the matter of requesting the man teach him when he returned to accept his new identification. And maybe that showed he _had_ changed, because the past him full of misplaced dreams and fury wouldn’t have thought twice about using the man and then promptly disposing of him when his usefulness expired. Wouldn’t have thought to _request,_ simply _took._

He would think on all that later, though.

Later, when he wasn’t on a knifes edge between insanity and complete hopeless despair, with a lingering ghost that seemed too close to a lost love chasing him as he opened the door to a world he didn’t know.


	2. A Town in Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers!
> 
> Helpful note: if I use ‘Tobi’ then Obito is using that persona, if I switch back to using ‘Obito’ then he is no longer using it.
> 
> And chapters will be fairly longer in length, so updates might be slow, especially as I have other stories as well. And before anyone complains about the OCs they are actually important, no matter how much they show up – you’ll see.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy! And please review!

The man seated next to the stoic Uchiha was wild eyed, desperation tore gaping wounds into his composure as he jittered madly in place, leg bouncing as he sat to wait for his name to be called. Obito hadn’t paid much attention to the seating area arranged for customers on busier days the first time he was here – a small wall lined with fading blue plastic chairs for when two or three appointments were made and a walk-in appeared to add to the crowd. It was where he was now, patiently lingering with the expectation that he was to be amongst those requested to enter the back room and retrieve the last portion of his first mission.

The man next to him had arrived just after the doors had clicked shut on another customer, a disappointed and anxious air encompassing him when he noticed the closed and locked door. His tailored shirt skewed out of place, hands twitching and hair in disarray. When he had settled next to Obito the sharingan user took little note of the riled man, chalking the odd behavior to that of a civilian committing a crime for the first time.

It didn’t take long, the wait that is, the previous customer opened the back door with a click, exiting with long strides – the confidence of someone who has done this multiple times pervading each movement of her limbs. Red-hot lipstick painted over a full mouth that was pulled into a self-assured smirk and highlighted hazel-brown eyes. The second step the woman took on clicking heels marked the interval that the man squirming in place next to Obito decided to rush forward without preamble and meet the older man standing in the open door half-way.

Obito watched the entire transaction with something akin to amusement. A rushing of jumbled words were falling from the disheveled man’s lips as he hunched slightly and clutched shaking hands into the elder’s, now rumpled, faded red shirt. The clicking of tall heals against fake-wood floors fell silent and Obito supposed the woman had stopped to watch the spectacle as well.

From what the Uchiha could understand of the babbling man’s situation he had inadvertently caught the attention of a local gang that were now out for his blood. All because he had kicked out the leader’s brother from his apartment complex when the man started selling drug out of his room and in the back alleys of the building. And he needed a set of four fake IDs and passports to make a new life overseas to escape the wrath of the group.

The chime of the bell at the front of the shop diverted Obito’s attention. His uncovered eye fell to rest on the sight of a teary eyed mother, with a child barely a year old propped on one hip and another with his hand in the white-knuckle grip of the emotional woman. She looked equal parts resigned and determined as she strode towards the desperate man.

“Ichiro,” the woman’s voice rung in the crowded room, commanding with a crackling embarrassed lilt to it, “leave the poor man alone!”

“But Katsumi!” The man whipped around – ‘ _victorious beauty, how fitting,’_ Obito thought scanning his eyes over the elegant woman, who, even in her current state, seemed a force to be reckoned with. “This is our only hope! If we don’t get out now they’ll kill us and the kids!”

That caught the three criminal occupant’s attentions, Obito’s eyes narrowed as that particular piece of information was added to the man’s story. It could all be an act, a way for the small family to gain discounted work, or take out an enemy that was nothing more than an adversary in business. But the act was too well put together; the hitching in their breaths, the stutter of their heartbeats, the emotions in the eyes of the woman and her two clinging kids. Too real to be just a mask – Obito should know, he’s worn masks more often than his true self.

He should ignore it. Let the family pull themselves out of their own troubles and move on with his life and his current mission. But.

But there are _kids_ involved; and Obito may have been cold hearted enough in the past to let the tragedy of innocent, young lives ending not affect him, but since he woke up to his own flaws such actions are not as possible. And maybe he was doing this because something in him wanted it to help repent for his past sins, thought that helping here would make everything he had done before just a little less damning. That maybe it would lesson his crushing guilt. _‘I never want to say ‘should have’’_ , Naruto’s words rung in his mind.

“You…ould…elp…hem…” the whispering voice of his long-dead love flowed into his ear from his right. It had happened enough since his arrival that the surprise at hearing her voice had run its course, though the tightening of his chest and the sudden acceleration of his heart beat hadn’t settled. The words always come choppy, some completely lost as they are translated from the veil of half-existence to him – he tried not to think on how they had become more frequent, nor louder with less getting forgotten along the way.

Obito closed his eyes, shutting out the world for a moment because his next sentence would put the goal of his first mission in jeopardy. Blending in and becoming nothing but a ghost until he can tentatively start pulling in information and clues would become almost impossible.

But _children._

Children who had done nothing wrong, yet are paying for the actions of their parents.

“Who?” The Uchiha’s question cut thickly through the heavy silence, startling the small family and causing the husband to draw nearer to his wife as if he could protect her and his kids from a shinobi. The questioning look in their eyes had Obito clarifying, “Who is threatening you?”

The man only blinked dumbly at the Uchiha, mouth falling open and closing, giving him the disposition of a fish. Seeming to finally comprehend the question the man – Ichiro – stuttered out a reply, “T-the Red Sc-Scarves.”

Obito watched the reaction of the shop owner and red-lipped woman closely, the shifting of discomfort and frowns giving away the extent of danger these people were in.

“A week,” he announced, already forming plans and areas to search, calculating the appropriate number of shadow clones to send out, “give me a week and they won’t bother you again.”

“What?” The man said dazedly. The older, red-shirted man giving Obito a sharp, assessing once over, eyes narrowed into slits and wrinkles made more prominent by his furrowed brows.

“Thank you…” the wife started, trailing off as she realized she didn’t even know his name.

“Just call me Obito.” He hadn’t liked his last name for a long while now anyway.

“Thank you, Obito-san,” she started again, “but you really don’t need to help.”

The Uchiha snorted, “It’s not for you, or your husband,” he said with a wave of his hand, “I just don’t like to see kids get hurt.” _Not anymore_ , he added silently to himself.

The two parents look at him with round orbs, tears forming once more in the woman’s eyes as she took in his words.

“Hey, mister,” the older of the two children called out suddenly, and Obito looked down into innocent brown eyes, “why is your hair white?”

He blinked at the kid, a small smile softening his visible eye while the mother looked horrified at how rude she believed the boy to have been, “Haru, apologize this instant!”

Obito stood and walked over to squat before the small child, “Can you keep a secret?” His onyx orb shined with good humor as the young boy shyly nodded his head. He never thought that his days of babysitting during d-ranks and watching after younger Uchiha kids would come in handy. Leaning in a bit further and dramatically looking around as if to make sure no others were listening Obito covered his mouth with one hand and mock whispered, “I’m not from this world.”

The child’s eyes went comically wide, mouth forming a circle in shock, “You’re a-!”

Obito held a finger to his mouth, shushing the loud outburst, “Secret, remember?”

The kid nodded eagerly, miming zipping his mouth shut. The Uchiha gave an approving nod before rising to his feet and offering a wane smile to the amused mother who had a thank-you written in her eyes.

“How?” The woman finally asked, voice steady but low, “How will you help?”

Obito shook his head, “You don’t need to know.” And it’s true; civilians, even in his world, were sheltered from the more bloody tasks shinobi had to complete. (All in an attempt to placate them about the raising of child soldiers. Obito didn’t allow his distaste at that particular thought show on his face.)

The woman seemed to accept this easily enough, giving a small nod, “Thank you, Obito-san.” Her eyes fell onto the two children on either side of her, “Thank you.”

It’s not until after the family left that the Uchiha realized the extent to what he had committed himself to; taking out a gang, or at least scaring them enough to leave the family alone. Not hard to succeed in, but annoying to have to put effort into tracking the group down and keeping his identity intact.

He couldn’t say he regreted it.

“Boy,” it took a moment for Obito to understand that it was _him_ the gruff old man was referring to. And the Uchiha was more shocked by how expressive the man was being than anything else, “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

Obito allowed his lone eye to fall upon the red-clad figure, slight indignation coming to the surface at the degrading term used as address. Of course he knew, he’s done this before, taken c-ranked missions harder than this. But these people don’t know that, don’t even know what a c-rank _is_.

Apparently the man took his silence for being uninformed, because he continues, gruff and unrelenting, “You’ve just given that family false hope!”

Anger raged in his veins at such an accusation, but the woman cut him off before he could protest, “Hisao is right,” her face is impassive, “there is no way you can take out the Red Scarves.”

 _‘Stop underestimating me!’_ Obito wanted to snap at them, because he had lived enough of his life being underestimated, doubted, left behind because he wasn’t seen as strong enough. He was an s-class missing-nin, as strong as Madara in his prime, with two mangeykou sharingan eyes and a rinnegan. He could take on Biju, tackle entire nations. Whose to say he couldn’t kill off a group of civilians? But he refrained, because these people don’t know, this world didn’t know. Instead he leveled the two with a dry gaze, “Why not?”

The red-lipped woman sniffed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head, “You must be knew around here,” she muttered out, arms crossed. “The Red Scarves are the second largest gang of drug runners and pimps in the Kanto area. I’ve even hear rumors they are dabbling in illegal weapons and human trafficking now.”

Obito frowned at that, sure it would prove a problem but any organization falls apart once the higher-ups are taken down; and he didn’t even _need_ to kill them, only lay waste to the foot soldiers they send out to do their dirty work. He only needed to make the leaders fear for their lives before attacking, make them live in paranoia for a few days before he attacked.

Maybe he’d even lay waste to the organization entirely; the region would be better off without them in the long run anyway. A nagging part him pointed out that that would be going too far, but preventing the group from hurting this family wouldn’t stop them when another harmed their fragile egos. It would best to destroy them now, rather than later – it was not like they were free of sins, and this was their first transgression under the law. Clearly they had made a name for themselves, and to do so in such a way as to insight this extent of fear and raise themselves to such heights made it obvious they had performed heinous acts in the past.

So even if the morally sound part of him brought out by a sunshine blonde was screaming in protest, Obito thought that killing, at the very least, the top ring of the gang was justifiable. And if a few others get caught in the crossfire? Well, he wouldn’t be losing sleep over it.

“Good,” Obito finally answered after the long pause in which his mind wandered.

“Good?”

“It’ll make them easier to find.” He gave a feral smirk to the baffled woman.

“Are you insane?” She asked throwing her hands out to the side.

Obito hummed, “Possibly.”

She eyed him up and down, red lips pulled into a frown as she took in his answer. A huff left her and Obito was shocked when she held out a hand, “Name’s Cho, and I can tell you where they tend to hang out.”

The Uchiha eyed the hand until it receded to fall limply at the woman’s side, “Name your price.”

Cho looked at him, half-lidded gaze judging him as it scannws his face, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" He asked skeptically, "Then why give me information?"

The woman shrugged, "Same reason as you, I guess, I don't like kids gettin' hurt." Cho reached into her large black purse causing Obito's body to tense with the restraint required to ignore his instincts that screamed to take out a potential threat.

With the click of a pen and shift of a small notepad the woman scribbled something down, tearing the sheet out of the book and offering it to him.

"Here," she said, waving the paper when he made no nave to take it, "it's the address to a club I used to work. Last I was there, their drug runners were making rounds nightly."

The Uchiha finally accepted the parcel from the woman, glancing over the words quickly and memorizing them. He stuffed it into the pocket of his dark jeans – clothes that he had thought to look uncomfortable when he first saw, but soon found them adequate in that field. However, their restrictions in proper movement for a fight degraded the overall value of the article in Obito’s opinion. And for that reason he had never been more thankful that he kept spare sets of clothes and disguises in his kamui dimension. Really, his mask broke or chipped more often than one would think; especially with the eccentric nature and actions of his Tobi persona.

An act that he would gleefully take up again when confronting the gang – if only for the amusement of their confusion and bewilderment.

He mumbled a thank you to the woman before turning an expectant gaze onto the now-named Hisao. A disgruntled look was about the man, and Obito watched in interest as the two before him exchanged glances – showing a clear history.

“Follow me,” was sighed out, Hisao’s voice once more becoming monotone. Obito walked forward and oddly enough Cho followed as well. The packet of forged documents was shoved abruptly into his hands and Obito pulled them out to ensure that everything he needed was there.

“Uchiha Obito, huh?” Cho’s voice came from his right, “Sounds like something out of a TV show.”

Obito gave her a blank look in return for the comment, “Why are you still here?”

She blinked back at him innocently, “You shouldn’t be so rude to a lady.”

The sound of a snort came from behind the duo and they turned simultaneously to look at the old forger clearing off a section of desk. “When have you ever been a lady?”

“When have I not?” The woman returned with a sniff, deep brown eyes falling back onto the Uchiha, “Ignore him, he’s gone senile in his old age.”

The banter back and forth drew a smile to Obito’s lips, memories of his old team’s arguments coming to mind and blocking out the world long enough that he was graced with the taste of paradise.

A hand clapping his upper arm drove the invigorating flavor away, “You seem like a good kid,” and _oh_ , if only he knew, “so I’ll wish you luck, for that family’s sake if nothing else.”

Obito nodded, about to spin on his heal when Cho spoke up again, “A week, that’s what you said, right?”

When he confirmed the statement it earned him a white-toothed smile – ‘ _the smile of a shark,’_ Obito thought absently – she primly turned to face away from them, “Then I’ll be back in a week. Bye-bye Jiji, Obi-chan!” The woman left with a backwards wave and the chiming of bells as she opened the door.

“Obi-chan?” He whispered out in confusion as he started to make his way to the door. The Uchiha departed to the sound of an old man grumbling about how generations have changed and no one respected their elders anymore.

It was pathetic, truly, how easily Obito found them – if this was the level of criminal in this world he questioned how anyone survived. Cho’s tip was correct, painfully so in fact, the entire place was run by the Red Scarves from what he can see. Perhaps he was being too cruel, holding these civilians to the level of even the lowest-ranked shinobi. But as he watched drug dealers make sales in the open he couldn’t say his calculations of their intelligence was all that inaccurate.

Tonight was his second night here, the previous one spent scouting and the day used to plan, to prepare for the new mission and the consequences of taking it.

There was a roar of laughter from a private section of the club, and with that he heaved himself from the bar and meandered into the back bathroom, the lights dull and one flickering every so often, bringing poorly drawn graffiti into view every few seconds. Looking into the mirror he found it fascinating to watch his henge drop, revealing his orange spiral mask, and a mop of black hair – a wig he purchased with some _offered_ money; really if people were going to walk around with their wallet so easily accessible it was their own fault. His clones may have found a job but the application fell through when he realized how much paperwork he needed to hand over, paperwork that he only recently came into the possession of.

Rolling his neck Obito felt a niggling of anticipation curl in his stomach, making a smile spread his lips in excitement – he had always loved a fun fight, and watching people’s reactions to Tobi was priceless.

The Uchiha – _Tobi_ now – reentered the main room, his red clouded cloak draping over his frame. He ignored the strange looks, whispering voices and pointing fingers. Not even bothering to skirt the edges of the crowd, instead letting them part for him as he stepped steadily, aura threatening, towards the closed off area housing his target. A middle-aged man, who was the highest ranked individual in the gang within the immediate establishment, the club his favored place to relax and take his pick of the girls he later drugged and sold.

The man was lounging back, a drink in one hand and a cigarette in his other. A cheesy, crooked smile warping an already distasteful face into a monstrous aesthetic. Yet, still, women flocked to his side in high-rising dresses that revealed more than they covered. The guards that blocked the non-welcomed crowd were about the size of Kisame – meant for intimidation, but Tobi felt nothing as one put a meaty hand out to stop him in his tracks. Tobi let his single eye move up, following the line of a muscled arm, and taking in a stoic expression.

It all happened in a split second; the two men were standing and then they weren’t. Their large figures sprawled haphazardly on the floor, with no outward signs of injury – pressure points were so convenient.

To everyone else it looked as if he hadn’t moved at all.

The music in the background sputtered to silence, the rumbling chatter of a full room soon joining it. The cheesy-smile-man wasn’t smiling once his mind caught up with what his eyes were telling him. What he recently learned to be called a gun was pointed at his head, the man’s face serious as the club emptied of civilians not associated directly with the gang. Those still remaining moved towards his cloaked form slowly, weapons of all kinds held at the ready.

“Oopsies,” he said, holding a hand to where his mouth was smirking behind the mask.

“Who the fuck are you?” The no-longer-cheesy-smile-man punctuated each word with a forward jab of his weapon.

“My name’s Tobi, nice ta meet’cha!” He explained, heavily accenting his voice and holding out a hand while the other rested on his hip.

The man mouthed a silent _‘what’_ , expression confused and gun momentarily falling an inch, “Alright,” he shifted to hold the weapon in two hands, “Tobi-“

“That’s me!”

“Right,” he said as the men around the Uchiha shifted closure, “mind explaining what the hell you’re doing here?”

Tobi leaned forward, pressing a finger to his masked mouth, “It’s a secret,” he mock whispered.

“I’m pretty good with secrets,” the man said, “don’t you think, boys?”

A round of agreement welled the room full of hums and ‘yes’s, tinkling sick laughter following the wave of sound.

“See,” he tipped his gun up and ducked his head slightly, eyes shining and voice making Tobi want to rip his tongue out. A greasy smile pulled back and showed yellowing teeth, “You can trust me.”

Tobi nodded, dramatically moving his head and spinning to take in the entire room, “Well if you say so,” he pitched his tone even higher, taking pleasure from the snickering that lifted off the voice-boxes of soon-to-be-corpses. “I’m here to kill you!”

“ _You_ ,” the man siad incredulous, “you’re here to kill _us_. One guy against fifteen,” he extracted one hand from his weapon and expanded his arm in a gesture that encompassed the people crowding behind the Uchiha.

“You’re counting’s pretty bad boss-man,” Tobi exclaimed, “I count only ten,” as he said the words roots shot out of the floor and staked five of the man’s groupies through the chest.

“What the hell!?” The man cried out, firing off his weapon to which the bullets simply passed through the Uchiha’s cloaked body and connected with three behind him.

Watching the three hit the floor Tobi turned back to the cheesy-smile-man and clicked his tongue, “That wasn’t very nice,” his voice back to its deep baritone.

The man was shaking, scrambling back on unsteady feet in fear, and Obito took sick amusement in it.

By the time he exited the premise there wasn’t a person left breathing within the building, something the Uchiha saw no problem with as it would send a clear message to the rest of the gang: ‘I’m coming for you’.

Cliché but there was a reason the method was used so much to become that way – it was affective.

And what was even more was that he gleamed a litany of information from the man’s head – where he met up with an even higher ranked person, one that should lead Obito directly to the leaders. And even better; the next scheduled meet up was later tonight, within two hours. Even if the man discovered that the bodies were there within that time it would only mean that Obito had to move onto the weapons dealer stationed in an eastern warehouse. That particular person was having a meet up tomorrow at three in the afternoon.

Truly, they were making it easy for him.

Perhaps he’d show up at the weapon dealer’s meeting anyway.

 

 

The chiming of a bell signaled Obito’s arrival, white hair a shade off in the afternoon light, medical patch covering his right eye and a deep blue turtleneck comfortably hugging his form. The old man was sitting back at his dingy desk, bored gaze lost in the television playing flashing images that reflected poor waves of light across Hisao’s face, emphasizing his aged skin.

“Hey, old man!” Cho sounded from behind the back doors, “when do you think he’s gonna’ get here?!” She appeared in the doorway, not taking note of Obito as he stood closure to the exit. When she spoke again her volume was lower, though the tone was no less demanding, “The family’s getting anxious and the kids are hungry. Please tell me you have some snacks in this dump.”

“Where do you get off calling this place a dump?” The forger countered, eyes narrowed.

“When was the last time you even cleaned?”

“Now don’t you start with that-“

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Obito cut in, onyx orb shooting between the two.

Cho whipped her head up, dark locks flying with the sudden movement, “Where the hell have you been?”

The Uchiha blinked at her, “I never gave a time, only a day.”

Before the woman could open her mouth to retort Hisao held up a hand, affectively silencing her. His eyes were calculating, “Well?”

Obito shrugged, striding forward towards the back room and pushing the door open, inside the family was huddled. Mother cuddling her children close as the husband paced and bit at his nails. When they spotted him in the entranceway the man froze and the wife scrambled to her feet, hope burning in their wide gazes.

“Go home,” he said, “you’re safe.”

They cried.

A lot.

And hugged.

A lot.

He could hear Rin’s giggling laughter in the background; the only thing keeping him sane strangely enough.

What did he do to deserve this?

Oh.

That was right.

He tried to take over the world.

He’d make sure to speak with the gods about cruel and unusual punishments once the fates actually deemed him acceptable to die.

But he managed to acquire a good deal out of it – the family offered him an apartment for half of the normal rent with no down payment as a thank you, and the Uchiha was in no state to turn the offer away. He couldn’t live in his kamui dimension forever, after all. With a place to sleep, however unfurnished it currently was, Obito could focus on finding a job.

Once the family left, having given him directions to the complex they own, Cho all but attacked him with questions. The majority of which he declined to answer – like _how_ exactly he was capable of taking out the gang, and if the rumors she was hearing about the leaders being assassinated are true, and if he was the one to do it.

When he stayed tight lipped the woman gave a huff of annoyance but backed off enough for him to breathe, “They’re calling you the Akatsuki, you know, because of the whole,” she made a strange motion with her hand, “red clouds thing you apparently had going on.”

Obito blinked, a laugh bubbling up in his chest at that bit of information, and despite how much he strangled the sound he couldn’t prevent the snort of amusement that escaped - truly the fates liked to toy with people.

“So,” Cho clapped her hands together, an eagerness contorting her face, “what are you going to do now?”

He eyed her, before shrugging. Because he really didn’t have much of a plan – not one he could tell anyone at any rate. Saying something along the lines of _‘try and find a way back to my reality since I’m actually a dimension traveling shinobi and I don’t know how I got here because I was supposed to die after trying to take over the world,’_ wouldn’t go over so well.

“Right,” she deflated a bit, “I forgot you’re new around here, do you even have a job?” When he didn’t answer right away her face gained an excited look, “You don’t, do you?!”

“I needed papers first,” was all he offered by way of explanation.

“I’m sure Jiji can find something for you to do here,” she began before turning to look at the old man, “ain’t that right, Hisao?”

“Huh?” the dark-haired man asked, “yeah, sure.” He didn’t take his eyes off the television the entire time and Obito is positive he didn’t even know what he just agreed to.

“Perfect,” she smiled that shark smile, “that way if anyone else needs help you’ll hear about it.”

The Uchiha blinked, because he hadn’t signed up for this – had helped only because there were _children_ involved, not out of the goodness of his heart or anything sappily sentimental like that. But the memory of a brown haired girl, purple markings and a sweet smile – a girl who wanted to help people and became a medic to protect her team in the only way she could – stopped him from protesting. The sound of her happy laughter, and the tug of his hand, brought a whisper to mind, _“Let me see how you save the world! It’s a promise.”_

 _“I never want to say ‘should have’,”_ Naruto joined her.

 _“If you just run away without doing anything people won’t do anything for you either… as long as you don’t give up, you can still be saved!”_ Kakashi’s words felt the need to muscle their way in.

So he didn’t protest, didn’t say a word against the red-lipped, shark-smiled woman who works under the wing of the criminal world yet still had the heart to make connections. Still had the heart to help out complete strangers.

It was a few months later, when everything had settled for the most part and he had taken on less than half a dozen other jobs – none of which he had taken a life during – that the police finally announce they would be looking into a series of killings that couldn’t be natural. Obito himself had yet to discover how the murderer was committing the acts, killing without touching, without leaving a trace. Only a shinobi could do such a thing, but when the bodies piled up and even visiting the sights of the murders leads to no evidence – not even a single trace of chakra, only the lingering stench of death – the Uchiha became more and more baffled. The only connection between the criminals is that they committed lawfully restricted acts and were caught as far as Cho, Hisao and himself could find.

So he was thankful for the announcement that they plan on investigating this Kira that had popped up, the internet – a technological advancement that he had yet to fully comprehend – claiming the killer to be a god. Obito had already had his fair share of god-wanna-be’s - himself included in a way - and actual gods that he can easily recognize the mind-set of this individual. Which is why he only was paying half a mind to the TV when the news anchor said that they had a top-notch investigator making a live appearance.

“You should watch,” Rin sounded loud and clear to his right as he sorted through a pile of broken cameras. (She had become more prominent in the past months; first her voice becoming less choppy, then her figure starting to appear – at first only a shadow before the lines filled in and colour was added. She was still translucent, evidence that she wasn’t truly there, but he could hear her, feel her touches and _see_ her, still as young as the day she died. When he had asked her why she was there, why he could see her, she had shrugged and told him he had to figure it out himself – he still hadn’t. Only felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for everything he had done, only felt undeserving to be within her presence.)

And because it was Rin, he listened, setting down his work and focusing on the moving picture that played across a digital screen, the brunette leaning crossed arms lightly against his head from where she hovered.

He didn't think much of the suited man that the show cut to, there didn't seem to be any significant spark of intelligence in his dark eyes. But perhaps that was simply poor lighting and the device he was watching the broadcast on. A ding brought his gaze form the screen to the device in his pocket, a walkie-talkie like piece of technology that Cho had _insisted_ he needed to have. Showing how to operate it and these strange cards he needed to buy to _'add minutes'_ or _'texts'_ to the phone. She called it a _'burn phone'_ if he recalled correctly. Whatever that means. He hadn't exactly set fire to it, nor had it ever caused him any heat related injury.

Pulling out the orange device from his pants pocket Obito flipped it to see a new message.

_From: Cho_

_Are you watching?_

Obito typed back, as quickly as he could, an affirmative to her question. Mentioning that Hisao had gone out for supplies not even ten minutes prior. No doubt the old man was witnessing it on one of the many screens decorating the streets.

There wasn't much to the broadcasted announcement - simple things about them working to take down the criminal. Nothing of real interest happening until the man dragged Kira's name through the dirt with a politely worded slander.

The man dropped dead not long after. Gripping his chest in pain before his head hit the table with a resounding thud, a group of people rushing to the man's side in the background. Obito snorted, really, if the man is all that smart he should have known that presenting himself so openly to a killer that can take his victims out without even touching them wasn't a good idea. Even so, for Kira to kill someone so casually, to kill someone that only disagreed with his methods and had no record of unlawful activity; it was... disconcerting to say the least. Not to say that Obito agreed with his method when he was only killing criminals, perhaps a younger version of him would have - the one that wished to see a fake world come to life around him. But as he was now, the actions of this mystery person with an unknown source of power seemed like someone who needed to be stopped.

 _'Is this how Naruto saw me,'_ Obito thought before pushing the query to the back of his mind.

The Uchiha is about to return to his previous task of sorting through broken cameras when the screen suddenly changed. A black ‘L’ with a white backdrop covered the picture, and Obito narrowed his eyes as a distorted voice started to speak.

“U-unbelievable,” is started with, void of any defining factors to determine the gender, “I had to check to be sure. Who would have thought you could have done this?”

And _oh_ wasn’t that interesting. Obito couldn’t help the smirk that tugged on his lips because this meant that the investigator wasn’t actually as dimwitted as he first thought – for who else could it possibly be when pasting their namesake on the screen. _‘So this is L,’_ Obito thought, someone willing to kill off another just to prove a point to themselves and those watching – interesting.

“Kira, it seems you can kill without direct contact.” And the Uchiha wanted to scream because that fact is obvious if only you _looked_ , “I couldn’t believe it before seeing it with my own eyes. Listen to me, Kira. If you just killed the man on screen, Lind L. Tailor, you just killed a man that was scheduled to be executed today.”

At this Obito sucked in a breath, because this investigator was brilliant - the kind of brilliant that the Nara were. He _knew_ that Kira would do this, _knew_ that the wanna-be-god would react so poorly to being ridiculed and he capitalized on that. He used it to his advantage to prove a suspicion not for himself but for the police force and for the people of Japan. And then to make sure the public wouldn’t hate him he used an actual criminal to take his place, one that would be executed close enough to the day of broadcast to seem almost humane.

“It wasn’t me. This criminal is someone who the police caught secretly. His capture wasn’t broadcast on television or the internet. It seems that even you couldn’t get information on him. But I, L… do exist! So come on! Try and kill me!”

Nothing happened, even as L instigated further for his own execution.

All Obito could think was _‘oh’_ because it clicked, everything clicked into place then. Kira may be able to kill without contact but that didn’t mean he can do so without knowing _anything,_ the murderer needed to at least be able to _see_ the person or have a picture of them to have their method be affective. It made sense; explained why a criminal captured with no visual documentation was not killed, explained why L was still alive as of now. And explained why Hisao, Cho, and himself couldn’t find any true links – because they had only access to those criminals that were posted for the public to see much like Kira himself.

Obito scowled; he didn’t know a single jutsu that would allow someone to kill in such a way.

“It seems that you can’t kill me,” L finally concluded, and Obito smirked, because he could just _imagine_ the look on Kira’s face in that moment – a disbelieving shock, turning to anger at the mocking blow to his ego. “So, there are some people you can’t kill. You’ve given me a good clue. I’ll tell you something good in return. I told you that this is a live broadcast worldwide, but…” and despite himself Obito leaned forward with anticipation at the dramatic pause, “this is only being broadcast in the Kanto region of Japan. I was planning on broadcasting this in different areas at different times, but it seems that I no longer need to.”

At first the Uchiha wanted to groan at this intel being so casually handed out, wanted to take back everything good he thought of the investigator. But as he was about to do just that a thought came to mind – if people knew that Kira was in the Kanto region then they were more likely to search out behavior considered suspicious and it could lead to tips being given to the police force. Really, it was not a wholly bad idea. It also gave him a narrower area to search, a smaller region in which the Uchiha can spend time sending out pulses of chakra to try and sense and presence that could lead to such an outcome.

When the killer in Shinjuku is brought up – the one that held hostage children – Obito was surprised to realize it was the first victim. In fact, he himself was on his way to deal with the monster when Cho called him back saying it was taken care of by some freak medical accident, he hadn’t given the incident much thought since.

He focused back onto the broadcast in time to hear L list everything he knew so far, “You are in Japan, and your first victim was your guinea pig. You’re just lucky that you’re in Kanto, the most heavily populated region in Japan. I never thought things would go quite so well, but… Kira, it won’t be too long before I can sentence you to death.”

He ignored the dinging of his phone, far too caught up with the happenings on the screen to care what Cho or Hisao were blabbering on about – if it were truly important then they would call instead of sending a typed message.

“Kira, I’m interested how you commit the murders. But… I’ll find that out when I catch you. Until we meet again… Kira…” the screen went fuzzy, the broadcast cut off.

“Wow,” a rush of air tussled the locks on top of his head, “L’s really smart, isn’t he?”

Obito snorted, ignoring the comment and reaching for his phone at last to see what Cho could want. Just as he picked the device up it sputtered to life with a loud ring different from the sound that it lets out for a message.

When he flipped it open and gave a put-upon greeting he was met with an enraged woman, “Why the hell didn’t you answer my messages?!” Before he could even open his mouth to answer there is a sigh on the other end, “Forget it, it doesn’t matter… you saw the broadcast, right?”

Obito hummed out an affirmative, trying not to think on how Uchiha-like the non-word answer was.

“It’s crazy, don’t you think? That someone can do something like that,” she said, “I still can’t believe it, and I saw it with my own eyes…” she paused, “Obito,” and his attention locked solely on her next statement, because she only called him that if something serious haD happened. “We need to be more careful, if Kira can really kill like that... Tell Hisao for me, I need to start work.” The line cut out without her usual eccentric farewell, and Obito realized how worried she must truly be. She most likely hadn’t made the connection between the killer needing a face to assassinate someone yet, and despite L proving that there are people Kira couldn’t kill, for a criminal such as her the threat is more than real.

Two days passed and the Uchiha was at a loss; they had searched the criminal underworld for anything even potentially relating to Kira, but nothing had come to the light, either simple rumors that lead nowhere or information that was already presented by the police. Nothing new. Nothing to give him a lead. His chakra sensing had brought back nothing in all the areas he had been to as well.

Yet, he hadn’t exhausted all his options. A niggling tick at the back of his mind pushing an idea that Obito knew will end poorly but may very well give him the opportunity to confront Kira and put him right in the middle of it all enough that he could find the killer faster. An idea that ended in a screaming lecture from Cho when he told his friends – because they had truly become close, and Obito was willing to tentatively let the string of bonds tie them together for their kindness. He knew how insane the plan sounded, but if he was to join the investigation then between their criminal network of informants and a world-class investigator’s deductions the identity of this individual might very well come to light.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Rin muttered next to him, and neither did he when he first thought of it – sure L could discover the papers Hisao was currently forging to be false, and that everyone at the other station was under a genjutsu, but the benefits were worth the risk. Perhaps it was the difference in the mindset of a shinobi verse civilian that came into play most prominently here.

Either way, by the end of that week he was walking into the police headquarters, with a forged background and very real transfer documents – if the officer who made them was under an illusion while doing so that was neither here nor there. A healthy handshake was shared while eyes are pointedly avoiding the scarred portion rest of his face. And then Obito was being walked out in front of lined rows of desks and people all mulling over paperwork to be introduced.

His eyes, after scanning the entire room and coming up with every possible escape route, landed on a shadowed man with a computer screen, a black L on a white backdrop dully displayed. Obito could practically _feel_ the man accessing him through the computer screen. Or, perhaps that was the numerous other pairs of judging eyes that take in his large amount of scarring, white hair and eye-patch – all too politely raised to say a word.

He gave a half-hearted wave and fake but large grin in greeting.

“You can take a seat by Matsuda-san, Uchiha-san,” the chief of police said, gesturing towards an empty place next to a younger looking man. Obito gave a polite thank you and small bow before taking his place, offering a smile in greeting to the dark-haired man beside him. A tentative smile started to form on the man’s face, before a spark of determination shot through his eyes and it was no longer tentative but wide and almost welcoming.

Obito got to work soon after, flying through the papers in front of him and the folder that gave him the summary of everything the investigators had found so far – it didn’t take him long to go over that portion.

He held back a sigh. He has a lot of work ahead of him.

 

 


	3. Bitter Orange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will follow canon for a little while, Obito trying to stay pretty low key to not draw attention and get caught in all his lies. Key word; trying.
> 
> It’s a bit hard to decide how in depth I should be going with this fic to make the things happening seem plausible, so if it seems to be going too slow or too fast please tell me!
> 
> Also, fair warning, Rin may be a bit OC but I mean she died… and that kind’a changes people…
> 
> Anyway, thanks for the reviews! And hope you enjoy!!!

It seemed that he had entered the investigative force at an optimal time – Kira having switched patterns in the times of their killings from the schedule seen of a student to one murder every hour. Maybe it could be seen as strange that he had no outraging objection to the conjecture of Kira being so young as to still be in school, at least in this world. But for his reality kids started going out onto battle fields at the age of six, taught how to kill and cut emotions from their work since they could talk. Having someone so young kill so many is nothing new to him.

The investigation was slow going, truly just shifting through paperwork and looking over past evidence; it was boring, though more interesting than working in a dingy camera store all day. He definitely got more attention from strangers here than he did at old man Hisao’s shop, with how many swift or not-so-swift glances he got from the others working in the room it was a shock that none of them had asked any questions. (That was not to say he wanted them to, because asking how he got these scars will only bring up memories, ones he had no want to relive. It was simply an observation about their restraint in the face of such curiosity.)

It was still boring though, nothing of note happening, just shifting files and scratching pens against papers.

Just as he was about to slam his head into the table out of sheer boredom something interesting happened; three people walked up and handed in resignation forms, arguing that they didn’t wish to die by the hands of Kira, and that despite them showing their faces and names openly, L did not. This leading to only their own lives being at stake. The Uchiha reluctantly agreed with that assessment of the situation; they are facing death with this investigation, and it was something many seemed to fear, but they face death with everything they do and if dying because they were trying to save others was not what they wanted then Obito won’t stop them. If they weren’t willing to lay down their lives, to trust L and their superiors and comrades, then they have no place here, and he could think of nothing better for them to do than leave.

He knows Hisao and Cho want him to follow in their footsteps, because he didn’t have much to report to them for a while now; nothing of importance that could lead to the identity of this killer. They didn’t show it, but he could tell they are disappointed with the lack of progress, and still skeptical of his choice to join the police investigative force, especially if the progress there is as slow as their own.

The following day the office was back to normal, as if those investigators hadn’t left. It was just like any other day, he would enter the office to stares and whispers, walking down halls with people avoiding even looking at him and sitting down next to an eccentrically naive newbie. The day continued with shifting files, reading reports, taking calls from people with useless tips, and researching into the past of all the inmates killed _again_.

And this day started as any other, and moved through itself as any other, Obito suspected it will end as every other as well.

Until the chief got a phone call, and the entire room froze in the wake of his shocked, “What? Three exhibited bizarre behavior before they died? What do you mean?! They didn’t just die from normal heart attacks?!”

Obito subtly enhanced his hearing with chakra, listening carefully to the person on the other side of the phone as they described the inmates creating strange inscriptions on the wall and writing letters, one escaping to the bathroom for employees and dying there. The entire situation was strange, and supposedly only three of the six that were murdered acted peculiarly.

The phone call cut off with Yagami-san requesting pictures be sent over immediately, he let the phone click back into its place before standing up to address the room as a whole.

“As you have just heard six more inmates were found dead, three of which acted abnormally prior to dying. Photos will be sent shortly and I want all of you to take a look,” his voice was gruff, commanding and broached no room for argument.

And just as he said the photos arrive, everyone receiving copies to look them over and make notes. Obito briefly glanced at the painted image on the wall, it reminded him of Hidan’s own symbol for Jashin that he wore without fail. Moving on he glanced at the photo of the dead inmate in the bathroom and finally at the letter. A pointless description of fearing Kira and nothing more, nothing of importance to finding their identity.

But.

But Obito was a shinobi and Kira had been smart enough to evade him, he who had a sharingan and capabilities beyond a civilian detective, so they would not submit evidence such as this so brashly, so pointlessly. Frowning down at the papers laid before him the Uchiha scanned over them as a whole – three different inmates, all acting strangely before they die of heart attacks, three other inmates dying as all the rest have. Why? Why would Kira suddenly shift, much the same as when they had started killing at different times. Are they telling the investigators that they can control the victims before they die, another show of strength? If so then why not do so sooner?

Unless they didn’t know.

Unless Kira didn’t know the entire scope of their own abilities and was testing them out, feeling the boundaries, much like all shinobi do when they first learn a new technique or discover they have a blood limit. Much like Obito did when he was learning to use his sharingan.

So Kira was getting a sense of what their powers could do, how far they could stretch. Meaning these are experiments, three… no. Six experiments. Obito had seen Orochimaru and Sasori work enough to know how scientifically inclined minds like dealing with human subjects – test as many as you can. Which means that the other three were failed experiments, whatever Kira wanted them to do clearly not within their range of abilities or within Kira’s own.

And this ability was much like a genjutsu, an illusion to force the participant to do the bidding of the caster, but the Uchiha immediately discarded the idea. If it were such an illusion Kira would need to be able to see the victims prior to their demise, and if it were some form of seal then they would have gotten reports of those who visited the prisoners within the past week or so – but there was nothing. Perhaps he should attempt to stop thinking of this in terms of his own world, these realities were different after all – but the habit was there, the instinct to automatically connect it to a shinobi technique from years of doing just that. It would take time for him to break out of that.

“Chief!” L’s distorted voice spoke from the computer screen in the back of the room, “it’s about these current victims. Don’t let the media know anything aside from the fact they died of heart attacks. It’s possible that Kira was performing some kind of test,” Obito sat straighter at this – so L came to the same conclusion as him it would seem. “If that’s the case, we’d only be giving him the answer.”

“I see…” Yagami-san said, “I understand.” Murmurs started soon after, the police frowning further upon Kira’s methods.

Obito stifled a snort; truly if these people think this was the worst that a person could do then this world was more sheltered than he previously thought. Perhaps he could introduce them to a certain snake’s methods of experimenting – through genjutsu of course, in no way does Obito want to have dealings with that creature again. Even Zetsu thought the man creepy. (Although he must admit that Orochimaru got results.)

Glancing back down at the letter Obito’s eye widened a fraction.

He’s a ninja. Trained in the art of deception, looking underneath the underneath – to see things where others won’t. So he felt a portion of shame for not spotting the message that was as clear as day sooner.

‘L, do you know…’ is said across the top if read from left to right. The Uchiha scanned the rest of the paper, mind racing to decipher any further clues, but there was nothing. Only the starting lines of a sentence left unfinished… left for later. Saying they would experiment again, they would complete the message with the prisoners to come. Obito grit his teeth; Kira is _playing_ with them. Was this how people felt when he took on his Tobi persona? It was much more entertaining to be the person pushing the buttons than the one getting pushed he concluded.

“Uchiha-san,” L’s called out to him, “have you found something?”

And Obito forced himself not to freeze, not to curse, only inwardly shriek in frustration because how the _hell_ did the man notice?

“I-“ he started, looking from the computer screen back to the photographed letter on his desk, “this letter… it’s a message.”

“What, that we should fear Kira?” A whisper mockingly slithered through the room. He refrained from rolling his eyes.

“Across the top,” Obito started, “read left to right it says ‘L, do you know’,” he let himself frown then, “but there’s nothing else in the rest of the letter.”

L was silent for a long moment, and Obito held his breath hoping he hadn’t stepped over a line, hoping he hadn’t given too much away about his skill set.

“What’s it supposed to mean?” The chief broke the silence, cutting through the tense atmosphere and allowing air to enter the lungs of those occupying the room once more.

“It’s not complete,” L began, “they’ll send the rest with other victims.”

L is right, the next message did come, and it made the blood in Obito’s veins run cold.

 

 

“L, do you know… gods of death…” Obito ruffled his hair, “that’s what they said.”

“Gods of death as in Shinigami?” Cho questioned tapping her chin thoughtfully, “why would Kira mention Shinigami? Unless they think they are one… which… just no,” she shuddered.

Obito snickered at her reaction earning a light smack on his arm.

"How many times do I have to tell you," she started, flipping a stray strand of hair over her shoulder and crossing her arms with a teasing glare, "you can't treat a lady so rudely."

Obito blinked at her, looking around in exaggerated movements, "What are you talking about, I don't see any ladies."

It earned him another half-hearted smack, "Teme, I haven’t seen you all week and this is how you treat me?"

Rin giggled in the background, and though the sound made his heart ache it was out of a bitter fondness and lost friendship more than the burning love he held for her. Spending so much time - over half a year – around her as a thirty-one year old grown man when she remained at the tender age of thirteen made it hard to see her as anything other than a child, a younger sister. If she were older than it would be different, but she wasn’t, she was young, a chunin, a little girl thrust into a war she shouldn't have had to fight. A giggling girl with notions still wrapped in a layer of hopeful innocence like vines growing around her heart and anchoring them to a cause – that the future will be brighter. Obito did not deserve her light, her warmth, her smiles. And even if he did he cannot love her the same as he had before, when they were of the same age – she has turned too much into a sister for that. The pain was still there, the loving thump of his heart when her voice rang around a room and she smiled that blinding grin he always lost himself looking at. But it was not as constant. And as he glanced to her floating ghost all he could feel was the love and protectiveness of an older brother.

It hurt. Ached in a way he hadn't thought it would to realize his first love is lost and gone – not that he ever had her in the first place. Ached to feel and know that his heart was moving on from brown hair and purple-marked cheeks.

Rin had took full advantage, however, as any passing person that she deemed attractive was pointed out with tugs and pokes to his person. It was... strange, embarrassing in a way, even though no other person could see her doing so it still led to him blushing or pointedly ignoring her. The fact she discovered his bisexuality had only made her more of a menace; but where such preferences are accepted readily in Konoha and the Elemental Nations, here they are not. Not completely, at least, many still have problems with those who find appeal in the same gender as themselves – neither he nor Rin could understand these biases.

And when he confronted Cho on the matter, confused by this prejudice she had laughed, laughed and said he must have lived under a rock before coming to Kanto, and then proceeded to grab hold of him in an attempt to drag him to a gay bar. It was an experience he had no wish to repeat again.

"Whenever you two children are done fooling around," Hisao grunted as he entered the room, "you have a request." Obito took the envelope handed to him and scanned over the contents swiftly, Cho reading over his shoulder.

"You gunna take it?" She asked, stepping back as he stuffed the letter into its container, “even with your tail?”

Obito held back a sigh, almost a week ago the Uchiha had noticed that he was being followed practically everywhere he went, leading to him avoid meeting up with either Cho or Hisao directly. The tail had no chakra signature, and gave a persistent tenacity for following the Uchiha. And so when the second day passed with the man still shadowing him Obito entered his apartment, made a shadow clone and set the copy to trail the person back to wherever they resided. As it turned out, after snooping through the hotel room the man stayed in, his clone discovered an American passport, FBI badge, and orders to gather intel on Uchiha Obito and watch for any suspicious behavior that could conclude in him being Kira. When he received these memories he had burst out laughing, either someone actually thought him to be Kira or they were so desperate that they were investigating everyone they could think of, including those working on the case.

If he were feeling less like a pent up animal then he would say no to taking the job, but he had been exceptionally bored since he joined the police, and he hadn’t taken a job in over a week. Besides, he can use shadow clones to evade the man without suspicion - technically already _had,_ but Cho and Hisao didn’t know that. With that plan in mind Obito gave a half grin to his friends, "Why not? Office work is so boring, I could use the break. And, besides, do you really think I don’t know how to lose a tail?"

Cho only raised an eyebrow in response.

Over the course of the next a week or so he ran non-stop jobs each night to burn off a foreboding gut feeling that had risen inside of him.

His persona – ‘the Akatsuki’ – having become popular since it was first introduced. So much so that Hisao kept a pile of unurgent cases in a safe to be taken care of. All payment was given upon completion of the work, unless the client demands the job be finished within a certain amount of time. If that was the case then half of the payment was given upfront.

Taking the missions helped him relax, helped him blank his mind and forget his guilt, his pain, his past, and the ghost haunting him. Throwing himself into work within the police and outside of it made him less restless, yet the feeling that something was about to come to a head wouldn’t leave him.

And for good reason, he soon found out. An angry chief barging into the office room and demanding the shadowed man allow him to speak with L definitely didn’t bode well. Everyone stopped, not a single paper was shifted, barely a breath was taken at how enraged their superior sounded.

When the line connected Yagami-san started without any preamble, “L, I’ve just spoken with the FBI Director,” Obito’s finger twitched slightly with the urge to react, because the man following him was FBI. Or, _was_ following him, Obito corrects – the day before the Uchiha had left the police station to nothing, concluding the investigation into him was over. “According to him, you were investigating everyone here involved with the task force.”

So it wasn’t just him.

“Yes.”

He held back his blanch at the word; the man could at least attempt to deny such claims.

“What is the meaning of this? Do you mean to say that you suspect us?”

“I decided that it was necessary to learn Kira’s identity,” L said evenly, as if it should be obvious, as if it explained why he would break the tentative trust between the two parties.

“I cannot condone this,” Yagami-san retorted fiercely, a murmur of agreement quietly arose amongst those surrounding Obito, “I cannot believe that you would spy on your comrades!”

Obito grit his teeth at this, trying not to feel guilt for his own spying when he was in Akatsuki, trying not to think on how he had done something so similar; using comrades and stepping over them as if they meant nothing, as if the trust, the partnerships meant nothing. (And at the time it hadn’t.)

Detectives started speaking up, disrupting the murmurs with their louder complaints. The Uchiha closed his eyes to it all until the clock ticked and his shift was over.

The next day the chief walked in with a heavy gate, as if the world rested on his shoulders, (and perhaps it truly did) they watched him closely as he rubbed his forehead and looked up to face them, “Kira will probably kill all who oppose him, even if they’re not criminals,” he started, and the entire room filled with a tense anticipation. “We may be killed by Kira… think of your lives, your families, and friends. It anyone wants to be dropped from this investigation, please resign. If you resign, you will not be demoted. I promise you. I want those with the confidence to stay on the case to fight Kira, even if going after him means sacrificing everything. That is all,” with the final line of his speech the chief closed his eyes and let his head fall slightly, as if in resignation.

The whispered conversations started a few seconds after, detectives asking each other for what each of them would do. Obito caught wind of a few mentioning families, children, a new born and wife at home. And for that he would not begrudge these people their cowardice, their desire to leave, because they were thinking of their precious people as they did so – because this was how they believed they could protect those they cherish the most. The Uchiha resolutely ignored the flash of orange, blonde, and blue that danced along the backs of his eyelids when he blinked.

By the end of the day only six remain not including Obito himself. Shockingly enough the naïve newbie was amongst them, or perhaps that shouldn’t be so shocking he surmised. Naivety can lead to false courage at times, after all.

“Only six people, huh?” The chief spoke up, scanning the remaining men, “seven including myself. No,” he looked down, studying his folded hands, “I should say as many as six of you are willing to risk your lives.”

“I trust all of you who have a strong sense of justice,” the computer voice filled the room.

 _‘So that was your plan,’_ Obito smirked; a good one too, combing through all of those that you may not be able to trust, may not be able to rely on completely. Smart. Ingenious, truly.

“W-wait just a moment,” an investigator with a light grey suit and what Obito concluded was a bush masquerading as hair suddenly spokes up, “L says he trusts us but, we don’t trust L.”

“L, we have decided to risk our lives to catch Kira,” the man hunched over the desks besides bush-hair is the next to voice his thoughts, “you should know what we mean by that.”

“But you never show your face and order us around… we cannot work with someone like that!” Bush-hair announced, building tension once more. Obito frowned at this; had the others not figured it out? Maybe he should tell them?

“L,” Yagami-san’s tone was serious, “if you want to work with us and want to catch Kira would it be possible for you to come here?”

“Earlier, I said that I trust you all,” there was a pause, which Obito thought would be less dramatic if the atmosphere wasn’t so stifling, and then the laptop was spun around and words were flying across the screen as L typed a message. It asked them to decide once more if they trusted him, to leave the building and discuss it before he would meet them.

The other investigators huddle together, asking why L would wish to work with them now, and saying that L will most likely send a double to meet them. Obito snorted while listening in from his position leaning against a pillar, the man wasn’t that stupid.

“I-I trust L,” the newbie spoke up, and really Obito needed to stop calling him that. The new- _Matsuda-san_ and Yagami-san are the only two he even remembered the names of at that, “I also think we need L’s help in this case.”

Spikey-hair agreed.

“Uchiha-san,” the chief called out, Obito forcing down the urge to groan at being put in the spotlight, “what is your opinion on this matter?”

He scanned his eye over those now looking at him, before giving a one shoulder shrug, “L was waiting for this to happen.”

“It seems we came to the same conclusion,” Yagami-san smiled at Obito.

“What do you mean?” Matsuda looked at them in confusion.

So the chief explained. Only one of them left, deciding against trusting the mysterious detective.

Excitement.

That was the word he would use for what he was feeling in that moment. Pure and utter excitement as they drive to meet the famous L. He was part of the second group going in, along with a quieter man that he learned went by Mogi Kanzo. Obito felt like a kid again, going off on his first mission outside the village with how full of energy he was, with how he can barely sit still – part of him expecting to hear Minato-sensei tell him to calm down with a laugh, and here Kakashi mumble out an insult. Instead, he just had Rin who wouldn’t stop babbling on about what she thought L looked like.

He was practically vibrating by the time they arrived, the elevator ride seemed to take a life time and the walk down the hall even longer. When they open the door the first thing that Obito thought was Rin’s description was sorely wrong. Before them stood a man in his mid-twenties, hunched over and barefooted in casual pants and a white shirt. Hands stuffed into his pockets as he looked levelly at them with an unreadable expression. Dark shadows highlighted grey orbs, prominent against pale skin, while a mop of black hair framed the man’s face.

“Oh,” Rin breathed out reverently, “oh, wow. Obito,” she pushed on his shoulder, her eyes never leaving the figure before them, “Obito he’s…” she let out a dreamy sigh, head cupped between her hands. Obito wanted nothing more than to roll his eyes, but refrained.

“I am L,” is the first thing he said, voice slightly scratchy but deeper than the Uchiha would have thought.

“Even his voice is attractive,” Rin stated, eyes swiveling to take in Obito’s stoic face, a mischievous smirk pulling at her cheeks.

Yagami-san made the first move, presenting his badge, “I am Detective Superintendent Yagami of the National Police Agency.”

“Uh, I’m Matsuda,” the newbie followed suit, Obito taking the opportunity to put names to faces as the others do the same.

“I’m Aizawa,” bush-hair introduced.

“I’m Mogi,” spikey-hair went next.

“I’m Ukita,” the only one Obito hadn’t even given a nickname to finally spoke.

“Obito,” he finally introduced, meeting L’s eyes squarely. He ignored the way the other investigators gave him strange looks for using his first name and offering no badge.

“I’m sorry we’re late. These six are our current…”

The chief trailed off as L held his hand in a mock gun, “Bang!” Everyone around Obito froze in shocked confusion, “If I were Kira you would be dead. You already know that all Kira needs is a face and a name, don’t you? Please don’t give out your names so carelessly. Let’s value our lives.”

Obito snorted out a laugh, he liked the guy already, moving to follow him as the detective made his way to a sitting area. The others soon followed as L requested them to turn all computers and cell phones off for the duration of their visit, leaving them on a table.

By the time they have all settled, and Obito had ignored the incredulous looks for his brightly coloured phone (orange is a completely acceptable colour, thank-you-very-much), Rin had circled the pale man’s chair at least ten times. Eyes scrutinizing as she took in his strange seating position, no doubt running through any medical knowledge she had on the affects or possible reasoning behind it. And when the boy started adding an extensively large amount of sugar to his tea the girl’s eyes went wide and startled, bfore she promptly tried to stop him, telling Obito to do as much when her hand only went through everything she touched.

“Um, L…” Matsuda started, before being cut off.

“When you refer to me from now on I wish to be called Ryuzaki, not L,” he said, “just to be safe.”

“Oh, then, Ryuzaki…” the nervous young detective started again, “if you know that a face and a name are needed, then couldn’t we cut down the number of victims by censoring crime reports?”

The suggestion was shot down quickly, with the simple fact that if criminals are not being killed then ordinary people will be, at least until the knowledge on those breaking the law was once again released to the public.

“Kira’s childish and hates to lose…” L, no _Ryuzaki,_ reasoned.

“Childish?” Matsuda echoed.

“And hates to lose?” The chief following suit.

“Yes. I’m also childish and hate to lose… that’s why I know,” the Uchiha blinked back at the man, the situation much like how he had been able to pinpoint Kira being hungry for recognition as a god in a way, wanting to bring in a new world that had peace but in all the wrong ways.

Watching L work, talk, deduce, explain; it was… fascinating to say the least. Obito was a shinobi, had years of experience behind him, it was the only reason for his conclusions thus far – he was no prodigy, no genius like Kakashi, or Itachi, or Sasuke. Had only the years of training under Madara to thank for his ability to plan, to manipulate. But this detective was incredible, and Obito realized how much he had underestimated the man prior to this meeting. He’d need to be more careful then, in the future, to ensure his secrets wouldn’t be uncovered. Hopefully the dark-haired man would be too caught up in the Kira investigation to have the time to look into the Uchiha.

As the information sheets are handed out the room erupted in optimistic opinions, Obito held back the urge to roll his eyes at their sudden enthusiasm. However, said enthusiasm dimmed with Ryuzaki requesting they ask any questions, only to have the positive atmosphere come again with his answer to the chief’s inquiry on him losing.

“Justice will prevail?” Obito muttered under his breath, repeating L’s answer with some skepticism, all the same, an upturn of his lips formed at the words.

“First off, in order to make sure Kira isn’t among us, I would like to talk to each of you individually,” Obito felt his muscles stiffen at those words, a small sick feeling moving up his chest from his stomach and swirling viciously in the back of his throat, one that he pushed away with the ease of assurance in his abilities.

The questioning wasn’t what thought it would be, Ryuzaki gave no indication that he knew anything about Obito having a falsified background. It left a strange taste in the back of his mouth.

By the time all of the interogations had been completed Watari (who, as it turns out, was an older gentleman who doted upon Ryuzaki as if the boy were his own son or grandchild, yet there was no distinct features shared between the two) came in carrying new police badges, as requested, apparently, by L. Obito took his with a small thank you and nod, to which the old man gave a warm smile in return.

He flipped the ID open, scanning over the name – Tachibana Mamoru, it made a bitter pang rise in his chest; Mamoru _‘protector’_ – and listening to the others as they voice complaints about the immorality of an officer of the law using a fake identification, how they could lose their jobs for such a thing. He, himself, has no objections to such an act - perhaps he should have spoken up as well, but by the time it occurs to him that he _should_ the time to do so had already passed.

The belts were… a technologically interesting nuisance. They would prove to make things more difficult for when he wanted to discretely enter a premise that could be considered suspicious. Though he would most likely give it to a shadow clone if such a thing was needed, but it just means that he would waste chakra, and though in this world such a matter didn’t mean life or death the conservation of chakra had been drilled into him since he could remember. Habits are always the hardest traits to break – especially those that have kept one alive in the past.

 

 

 

The night before, Obito had been able to go home for the first time in three days; he was asleep before his head even hit the pillow. And now he was moving with quick, long strides back towards the hotel – there wasn’t much work to be done; simply going over files and videos again and again.

The clouds overhead hung like puppets in the sky, dancing with the air currents as if to put on a performance for those on the ground. A mocking display of their ability to fly and their false sense of freedom as the strings of wind pulled them along. Obito paid little mind, only moving faster across the earth to reach his destination when the wind picked up. The hotel wasn't too far away, and if he rushed then making it on time wouldn't prove to be a problem. Just as he thought this Obito passed a small book store, the outside wilting slightly and windows spotted with irremovable stains, an old 'open' sign hung crookedly on the door that had a small rusted bell to tell of a patron's entrance or exit. He would have walked pass, ignored it like every other building on the street, except... Except they were displaying a bright orange book with a little blonde boy in the front. He would have walked pass, except the word 'Naruto' made him freeze in his tracks, the name like a beacon to him.

He didn’t walk past.

There were rows and rows of them, each a different chapter of the blonde boy's life. And though some of the names had shifted _his_ was the same. Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto battling to protect those precious to him, to bring Sasuke home, to save the world. The story was the same from what little he reads over, down to the words they said. Their battle, the one that the blonde was able to smash some knowledge into his head during, looked painfully exact. His own name was different, but that didn't matter much to him. It was a sudden understanding; the realization that these could tell him if they won; if the Child of Prophecy succeeded. In a rush of movement he bought a stack of the books, from the start of the final battle to the very end.

The owner looked minutely dazed as she rung up all the purchases, handing him a large paper bag that he took with a smile.

He was late he knew, nearly an hour so, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when he had an answer to at least one question that had been running through his head for ages. Not when he would be able to see those precious to him again, even if it was only in a book.

Slipping into an alley to not draw attention Obito put the bag into his kamui dimension as to not garner questions about its presence when he reached the hotel.

He was let into the room by a straight faced Watari, he gazed at him steadily for a moment before stepping aside. The detectives all look up when he enters the room, all but Ryuzaki, and he couldn't resist the twitch that sends his hand to rub at the back of his head.

"Heh, sorry," he offered, "I got lost on the road of life."

He half anticipated an exaggerated cry from a young Kakashi and the put-upon sigh of a sensei too used to his eccentrics’. All he got was a groan from Rin. It didn't hurt. Really. The squeezing of his heart was because he ran here, not from the sense of something he long accepted he would never hear again.

"Uh, Uchiha-san," Matsuda started.

"Obito," he grumbled, sitting down next to the young detective.

"Oh, uh, Obito-san," he started over, a strange lilt to his tone, "what's that supposed to mean?" The question drew the attention of others, including a contemplative side glance from grey eyes - he determinedly blocked out the strange feeling that went up his spine at being scrutinized by that gaze.

He shrugged, trying to make the situation more casual than he felt, “Just something an old friend used to say.” Which was entirely true, he had overheard Kakashi – during one of his many visits to Konoha for spying – say those lines as if they were a rehearsed phrase the Hatake said often.

The rest of the group seemingly accept the explanation and the subject is left at that.

Obito was surprised by how long it actually took to gather all the tapes from the deaths of the FBI agents. To watch them all took even longer with how many angles there are to be inspected. Days of pulling all-nighters ensued, and though they didn't affect him as badly as the others the craving to crawl into a warm bed was steadily rising.

In the end it was only Raye Penber's footage that caught L's attention. As the detective requested for the replaying of the video the Uchiha forced his unfocused eyes up from the piles of papers he surrounded himself with on the floor to watch. Standing on limbs that tingled from staying in one position too long, he situated himself behind L at the back of the coach, Yagami-san next to him.

Matsuda started reading off the transcript of what notes they made pertaining to the agent’s movements during the course of the footage. His voice no longer its enthusiastic, cheerful norm, but a tired droll that had Obito’s own exhaustion itching across his skin.

But he forced his eyes to focus, to notice all the little things about not only the man himself but the people around him as he made his way through the subway station. That’s when he saw it.

The envelope disappeared.

Or, to speak more frankly, Raye Penber left the object somewhere between the time he walked onto the train and got off it – or someone took it from him, but that possibility was unlikely as there would have been a struggle of some form. Which meant that either he was dropping information off or-

He was cut from the line of thought as Watari handed him a cone of ice cream, a warm thank you was given in return for the gesture and Obito turned his attention back onto the case once more. Just in time for L to speak his thoughts on the matter.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?”

“Ryuzaki, what’s strange?” Yagami-san questioned, leaning over whether from exhaustion or to better focus on the man, Obito wasn’t entirely sure – most likely both.

“Judging by this footage, from the time that Raye Penber got onto the train to his death, he had been riding for an hour and a half. The Yamanote Line only takes an hour. That envelope is especially strange.”

“Envelope?” Aizawa inquired.

“It disappears between the time he got on the train and the time he died,” the Uchiha offered to the detective, “which means he left it before he got off.” Obito’s mind strayed back to his previous set of thoughts; _‘the man’s a professional, clearly high in rank to be put on such an important case, so he wouldn’t just forget it on the train… no, he must have deliberately left it behind.’_

There was silence in the room and he blinked as he realized everyone was looking at him, “What?” No one took their gaze off him and understanding slowly dawned on Obito – his eye wemt considerably wider when he realized he just mumbled all his thoughts out loud. A bright blush swept his cheeks in embarrassment at how much of a rooky mistake he, _an s-class shinobi,_ just made.

“Precisely, Uchiha-san,” and the white-haired man does _not_ twitch at being called that. Ryuzaki twisted back to face the screens, and continued, “And this video of Penber’s final moments… it looks to me as if he’s desperately trying to look inside the train.”

“If so, could there be a hint there?” The chief brought up.

“Wouldn’t it be interesting if Kira was there?”

Obito contemplated the idea – it was a possibility, especially if this person was anything like he used to be. He remembered how watching the outcomes of his actions sometimes wasn’t enough, the itch to go out and complete a job himself – to watch it happen. It was part – however small – of the reason he had decided he would make his presence known to the other Akatsuki members as something other than their leader. It was fun, a thrill when the threat of being caught so openly rushed adrenaline through his veins.

“C-couldn’t be!”

“I don’t think so either. There’s no reason for Kira, who can control death from a distance, to come to the scene of the crime. But despite that, he may have tried something bold,” there was a long pause and Obito debated bringing up his own take on the prospect but… he felt as if they are missing something. Something vitally important to stick the puzzle pieces together – like _why_ would Kira come out to play, beyond the motivation to gain a thrill?

Was it to play with the victim? But if that were the case then why not just control them the same way he has previously? Why would he need to be _there_ for the killing?

Later, when Watari forwarded a phone call to L, Obito and the other investigators watched in rapt silence as his expressions shifted and changed. His eyes went wide in an expression the Uchiha had yet to see him make when his eyes landed on the offered image of one Naomi Misora – Raye Penber’s wife to be.

“She’s been missing since the death of her fiancé,” Ryuzaki explained as he handed Matsuda’s phone back to the newbie.

“Anyone would be depressed over the death of a fiancé…” Matsuda attempted to reason, “could it be…?”

“Suicide?” Aizawa finished.

“No, the Naomi Misora I knew was very strong-willed, an excellent FBI agent. She would likely be thinking of catching Kira. She was with Penber. She might have found a clue…”

The room held its breath as this thought filled the air, a hopeful bundle of nerves blocking their ability to function their lungs.

“Everyone, from now on, we’ll focus our investigation on the people Raye Penber was investigating while in Japan. He was investigating two people in relation to the police and the people around them.”

“Who are they? Who are those two?” The chief demanded, his face serious and all exhaustion wiped away from his expression.

“Deputy Director General Kitamura and his family, and…” here the man paused slightly, an intense look out of the corner of his eyes was given before he continued, “Detective Superintendent Yagami-san and his family.”

The chief stuttered a look of dawning horror, eyes going wide and eyebrows pulling together. The disbelief palpable as he reared back from shock, “What?!”

“I also wish to place wiretaps and surveillance cameras in both households,” Ryuzaki turned to fully face him as he proclaimed this.

“Surveillance cameras? Ryuzaki!” Matsuda cried out, taking a step forward.

“That’s way out of the question!” Bush-hair jumped in, “it would become a civil rights issue if this is discovered… and we’ll all be fired!”

Obito tried to force down his scowl at the reasoning behind the man’s objections, the potential for Kira residing within one of the homes and discovering the killer’s identity was more important than their jobs; people’s lives were at stake here.

“Weren’t you willing to risk more than your jobs?” L countered, and Obito felt oddly happy to know the man thought the same, “I thought we were putting our lives on the line.”

“Ryuzaki…” Yagami-san started, a determined glint in his eyes, “what is the possibility that Kira is among them?”

“Ten percent… No, five percent,” he let out, and the Uchiha nearly blanched at how low the numbers were. The others having similar reactions, though through more verbally inclined means.

“No…” the chief disagreed with the out cries, “of the people we investigated so far there wasn’t anyone who even seemed the least bit suspicious. I think we should look into it even if there’s only a one-percent chance of finding Kira.”

 _‘I never want to say ‘should have’,’_ rung through his head with dancing blue orbs and orange flashes.

“I never thought that my family was under suspicion,” the man’s voice was stronger now, “Fine. Please place them! In return, install them in every part of the house! Even the bathroom!”

Rin huffed in indignation behind him at the last statement, mumbling about perverts.

“Thank you very much,” Ryuzaki said, his voice sounding sincere enough, “that’s what I was planning to do.”

“Chief! What are you talking about?!”

“That’s right! You have a wife and daughter, don’t you?”

“I know!” The man bursts, anger boiling under his surface – likely only made worse by the feelings of resigned duty to commit to such acts. “There’s no point in doing this unless we’re thorough! Just be quiet!”

“Well, out of courtesy, only Yagami and I will conduct surveillance on his home. Watari, how long will it take to set up the wiretaps and camera monitors?”

“Starting tomorrow I can set them up at any time once we know when both families will be out,” the older gentleman answered.

He walked into the hotel room the day the cameras were to be placed – the monitoring wouldn’t begin until later in the day, and so the other investigators had been tasked with more research until such a time – with his face buried in a book.

Specifically his face is buried in ‘Naruto’. It was already the second time he had read this volume, but he couldn’t bring himself to care – he wanted to memorize every detail, every thought, every word spoken from the blonde to him. To never forget what the blonde taught him. He tossed his phone onto the table, the device turned off and entered the sitting area.

Settling onto a coach the Uchiha noted the page he was on before closing the book and trading it out for a manila file folder that rested on the wooden surface before him. It earned him strange glances to say the least.

“You read that crap?” Aizawa snorted from where he is seated, a slightly disgusted look on his face as he gestures, paper in hand, to the book.

Obito glanced from him to his connection with his precious people, eyes softening almost imperceptibly, “It reminds me of someone.”

“Is it the same person that said that phrase?” Matsuda looked pensively thoughtful for a moment, “What was it, again… ‘lost in life’ or something?”

“’Lost on the road of life’,” Ryuzaki spoke up, looking thoughtfully at the three – or more accurately at Obito.

“Ah! That was it,” Matsuda gave a cheerful smile, before turning back to Obito, “so is it?”

“Heh… something like that,” he scratched the back of his head and squinted his eyes to try and abate the awkwardly nervous air he had from the question. The answer wasn’t a lie, the book did remind him of Kakashi… but that wasn’t the person he was talking about.

L had been eying him strangely for the past hour or so, his eyes boring into the side of the Uchiha’s face as if it will give him all the answers to the questions buzzing around his head. Part of him wanted to just snap at the man to spit it out, to ask his questions and get it over with. But the other fraction held him back – the one that didn’t want to know what information L had dug up on him, or lack of information at that.

“Obito-san,” and so it had begun, the Uchiha stifled any outward reactions his body may give, “how did you get those scars?”

His heart skipped a beat, or maybe stopped entirely, he wasn’t sure nor did he have enough in his mind to care in that moment. The roaring in his ears became deafening, blocking out the long winded explanation that L had found no records of such injuries to his person in any hospital, blocking out the protests of the other investigators for being incentive to such a topic. It got louder, and louder, and louder, drowning him, consuming him and the world went black as his eyes shut to try and block out everything. If he could only block out the world then he might be able to breathe again, but no. No. Instead he felt a blinding pain coursing through the right side of his body, white and hot, burning as a weight crushed his bones and muscles and flesh. Tearing, ripping, cutting him in half. And he was back in the cave with Rin hovering over him and his sharingan activated, recording the entire scene so he could play it back in technicolor. Could watch Rin cry, and Kakashi stare lost down at his prone form. And some part of him knew that his eyes had activated outside of this memory as well, some part of him thankful for closing them.

Hands are on his wrist, tugging gently at them and stopping the feeling of something pulling at his scalp. He could hear Rin’s voice but it didn’t match with the words her mouth was forming in the blurring vision before him. And then there was another voice, several, too deep to be his teammates, too old. They were telling him to calm down, to just breathe, but how could he when this boulder was crushing one lung as the other filled steadily with his own blood.

Obito’s senses were going into overdrive, he was a shinobi damn it, and in what might as well be considered enemy territory. He couldn’t afford to react like this, especially when it hadn’t happened in so long – sure, for a while he had attacks when he first went under the care of Madara and Zetsu, but they waned and soon disappeared leaving only the nightmares behind to haunt him.

 He needed to calm down, to compose himself enough that his legs would support his weight and his chakra would be controllable to the point his sharingans could deactivate. He needed to calm down enough so that he could escape. So that he could run from this room and take a random job offer from the pile Hisao kept in a safe in the back room. He needed to get his mind off the past, focus on something – and if taking a mission will ensure that, then that was what he would do.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but when he could open his eye and uncurls his hunched over body it was to find a concerned chief of police and Matsuda – the later hovering in a twitchy stop-go pace.

“Obito-san,” the chief said, tone close to soothing. The Uchiha was confused, for a moment, at the man using his first name, but he quickly understood. The chief must have been using his last name up until now, and when that didn’t work moved on to his given one, “Obito-san,” the chief said again, and he focused his eye on the man’s face, “are you alright?”

He wanted to laugh. Bitterly. Ironically. Sadly.

Because no. No he was not alright. He just relived his own death – or his first one at any rate – and was in a different dimension surrounded by individuals he barely knew with a suspicious world-class detective. So no. He wasn’t alright, thank you very much.

“I’m fine,” his voice came out far away, and he abruptly rose. Pushing away the feeling of grey eyes following his movements, didn’t bother even looking in L’s direction, as he turned away, “I need to go.”

His legs are slightly unsteady but he refused to show it as he existed the room, breaking into a jog once he got into the hall and passing the elevators up for the stairs – he may be on a higher floor but the elevator was too closed off, too small a place and he didn’t think he could handle that right now. So he rushed down the steps, stopping himself from using shunshin or kamui because he knew that the hotel had cameras practically everywhere. It was not until he was a block away that he slipped into an alley and rested the side of his head against the cool brick wall, back to the entrance as he tried to calm himself.

“I take back everything I said,” his ghost said with a huff and crossing of her arms, “he’s a jerk.”

“It’s okay, Rin. He didn’t know,” Obito wasn’t sure why he was defending the person that just gave him a panic attack, but his mind was racing too fast to stop and contemplate it.


	4. Chasing Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers!
> 
> Thank you all for your reviews!
> 
> And things should be picking up from here! I know that chapter is shorter but I thought a sorta-cliffhanger would be more fun than a long chapter.
> 
> Anyway hope you like the chapter! And please review!

He left a wood clone at his apartment wearing the belt - the bunshin more stable than others and can take a hit or two before being destroyed should the need arise. Obito, himself, spent days going between his kamui dimension and the only reality with an open door, taking jobs as the Akatsuki to try and focus on something other than the nightmares that wouldn't stop. He hadn't intended to stay away for so long, only for a day originally, but then the dreams wouldn't end and the only thing that could calm the memories was missions. Missions and more attempts to open other realities, pushing and prodding at the worlds he could feel but never enter. The pain from the backlash of his jutsu numbed the tightness in his chest and exhausted him enough that dreamless nights were available for him to grasp.

He continued to try even as each of his attempts fell short, because Naruto wouldn’t give up and he owed the boy this much, owed Kakashi and Minato and Rin this much. Especially with how distracted he had been lately with the investigation, how little time he had spent trying to return. And a deep, selfish part of him wanted to see his home again, see Konohagakure again. See gravity defying silver-not-grey hair, see blue eyes swathed in orange, see the Uchiha crest worn on the back of a relative he could be proud of, and know that everything was fine. See it with his own eyes, and feel it, and smell it, not just read it in a book. But he failed. Chewed apart his coils and pathways enough that he had to lay motionless for hours to let his healing factor slowly repair all the damage he had caused with his vain hope.

When he returned from his mental breakdown it was to find that the cameras had been removed from both residences and instead Ryuzaki had seen fit to basically stalk the son of Yagami-san, even going so far as to enter into the same school as him. Though, Obito resigned, it was the same as any infiltration or intelligence gathering mission handed out to a shinobi – the stakes just as high, and the means by which it was completed also similar.

But L was not a trained shinobi, didn’t have the same skillset as one, and even with his powerful mind he couldn’t hide in the shadows as well as Obito could.

So he sent out clones, some henged to be civilians, and others dressed as his criminal persona. But there were only so many places that his clones can appear with how weak illusion based jutsu are to digital recording devices that this world seemed to be so obsessed with putting _everywhere_. Still, it was enough for the Uchiha to spot a strange dark shadow following the student. One not visible without his sharingan activated, and even though he couldn’t seem to sense any chakra emanating from the presence there was a distinct sense of death. It set him on edge. To make matters more interesting the boy seemed to be capable of not only seeing this shadow but also communicating with it. And the shadow itself seemed to become aware of his clones’ presences each time Obito sent them out to observe, giving each bunshin a mere hour for a lifespan.

The Uchiha was staring at the file in his hands as he received the latest memories from one of his clones, nothing new. The situation was entirely too frustrating, he could see clearly why Yagami-san’s son was being considered a suspect but the investigation needed more evidence to convict, needed Kira to slip up. They had only a few days until the opening ceremony for the academy that Light and L would both be attending.  And if Light was truly Kira – as Obito was more than sure of – then Ryuzaki interacting with the boy would do nothing but put him in more danger than perhaps he could handle. Which brought the shinobi right back to where he was before – they need Kira to slip up, to make another brash move such as the one he committed to with Raye Penber’s death.

But what would draw the killer out?

L had described Kira as being childish and hating to lose, his point only proven by Kira never backing down from those challenges the detective put out. So, perhaps, Obito could call them out in some way, challenge their power.

And who better to do just that than Akatsuki? A criminal who wears a mask and goes by a title handed out by the public. Who better to challenge the authority of a wanna-be-god?

He’d need to be exceptionally careful, however, as he didn’t want to draw too much attention to Hisao as some in the underground knew about the old man being a means to coming in contact with the Akatsuki. And Kira seemed more than willing to go to whatever lengths it took to keep himself safe, attacking Hisao or even threatening to would not be out of the realm of possibilities. Though, if Obito was correct, Hisao wasn’t even the man’s real name.

The Uchiha had no doubt that Kira was already drawn to the Akatsuki, with news coverage being given anytime he took a mission there was little chance the killer _hadn’t_ heard of him. And with how the Akatsuki operates Kira most likely wanted to see his head on a spike, or, more accurately, his heart bursting in his chest. This fact only made his criminal persona all the better a tool to use in pushing the killer to make a mistake.

But that still drew the question of whether he should go about announcing this challenge in a brashly loud manner or more subtle ways. The Akatsuki had never left any messages behind, nothing written, not a single grain of evidence or trace of his presence except the victims of his mission – alive or dead. Which means that doing so brashly may be too out of character for the persona, it may seem too much like a copy-cat or fake. Leaving him with doing so through subtle means.

Which, he surmised, will probably not be nearly as fun but still just as effective in the long run.

Or… maybe it would have been less entertaining should people not continue to underestimate him.

“Missed me!” Tobi yelled happily as he side stepped the swing of a metal bat, “oh-whoops,” he ducked under the fist flying towards his head only to come face to face with the barrel of a gun making him freeze in place. “T-that’s not fair!” He exaggerated the whine in his voice, enjoying how the higher pitch made the man in front of him cringe.

“Life’s not fair,” the man said with a sinister smirk, “and now you die.”

“Eh!?” He loudly exclaimed, “W-what?”

“You heard me,” and the trigger was pulled. The bullet traveled down the barrel, propelled from the gun and through his mask. He saw it all happen in slow motion.

The most entertaining portion came when the man realized he wasn’t dead.

That’s when the real fun started.

“W-what the- what the hell are you!?”

He tapped his chin thoughtfully, as if the question deserved great concentration to answer, “I’m a good boy,” he finally announced, hands on hips. Pushing down the chuckle rising in his throat at the memory of one of white Zetsu’s clones saying that once when he was taking care of the Uchiha.

“Get-get the fuck away from me you freak!”

“I only wanted to ask you a question,” Tobi slumped, shoulders drawn in and hands coming to cover his masked face as if he were crying at the comment.

“A q-question?!” The incredulous tone really wasn’t all that needed, Tobi surmised, but nodded his head eagerly all the same. “A-and if I answer t-this question will you spare me?”

Another nod.

“A-alright then, ask your stupid question!”

“Yatta!” He exploded upward, flailing limbs and spinning on his right foot before hopping back forth from leg to leg, “yatta! Yatta! Yatta!”

“Just ask it already, would ya!?”

His hands fell back to their sides, head tilting, “You know,” he started, “being grumpy isn’t good for your health.”

The man wanted to strangle him.

Or shoot him.

Maybe both.

Either way Tobi leaned in close, placing his masked face to the man’s ear, “What do you know about Kira?”

Nothing.

Not a single person he had contacted _graciously_ about the matter knew any details or leads that could bring the Uchiha closure to the killer. But that was something he expected and not at all the reasoning behind his repeated questioning of different criminals. Rumors are a powerful and wide spreading thing after all, and the more people talking the faster they move. Especially if the police get their hands on higher profile members of a gang. Interrogation was a must, and the press would be all over the arrest reporting the why’s and how’s and who’s and what the questionings revealed.

Obito was entertained by the entire dance as it stood, but it garnered even more excitement when Ryuzaki commented on the situation to the investigators.

“Maybe he’s challenging Kira?” The Uchiha brought up with a halfhearted shrug of one shoulder.

“Why would he do that?” Matsuda scratched at his mop of black hair.

“He’s trying to draw them out,” L saiad biting his thumb.

“The Akatsuki has always gone after criminals,” Aizawa pointed out, “maybe he feels threatened by Kira.”

“So he’s conducting his own investigation by copying Ryuzaki’s approach?” Matsuda concluded, though the statement lilted at the end and formed more of a question.

Obito snorted to try and cover up his laugh, “Looks like you have a fan,” he smiled cheerfully at L, “watch, next thing you know they’re going to start stalking their suspect too.”

“I am not stalking Light-kun,” Ryuzaki objected, voice its normal flat tone, “merely creating a situation that will allow me to become closure to him so I may observe him better.”

Silence fell over the room with that statement, only to be broken seconds later by Obito’s only half-heartedly covered up snort of laughter. His eyes shine as L shoved a forkful of cake into his mouth, a clear sign that Obito was to get back to work. So, with that, they all turn back to study the files laid out for them to review. Hours pass, the outside world becoming darker as the sun set and Watari entered with the offer of food.

The Uchiha shifted the file in his hand, bringing a mouthful of rice to his lips as he flipped a page and revisited the suspect’s basic profile, “You never answered my question, Obito-san.” The detective’s voice broke his concentration and once he had fully processed the statement all he felt is a tight clenching in his chest. He forcefully smothered the welling panic and locked down on those rising memories that will chew away at his ability to stay calm. Uchiha Obito refused to look weak in front of these people again. “How did you get your scars?”

The true factor that effectively stifled the attack was the war cry that was released from his ghostly companion’s mouth and the flying punch that swiung at great speed through Ryuzaki’s head, the momentum causing the small girl to pass completely through the man. It made the Uchiha’s eyes soften and a wistful quirk took over his lips.

“Saving a friend.”

“They’re dead.” It came out as a statement, not a question. And he absently wondered what so obviously gave it away; the distant look of painful memories in his eyes? The way his voice was soft enough to be a whisper? Or the way his hand twitched with a want to rub his left eye? What gave away the fact that he may very well never see this person again?

“Something like that,” he’s been saying that a lot lately, especially in reference to those he held precious from that reality. It was not a lie, not really, only a half-truth because the man might as well be dead to this world. The detective seemed satisfied enough with the answers, turning his focus away from the Uchiha and to the group as a whole.

“Tomorrow I will be approaching Light-kun, again,” he announced, “I wish to test his deductive skills.”

No one questioned the man, not really, instead opting to give small nods and focus back on their work.

The next day came and they gathered into the hotel room, waving lazy goodbyes as the detective left, the chief soon following with the explanation that he was to have a conference with his superior about the investigation. None of them thought much about it.

Until Watari informed them solemnly that Yagami-san had suffered from a heart attack, and was now in the hospital.

“Was it Kira?” Matsuda rushed to say, springing to his feet with deep brown eyes wide with grief.

“No,” and the entire room let out a breath of air, “the doctors have informed me it was stress induced.”

“Stress…” Aizawa started.

“Induced…” Utika finished.

“Yes,” Watari confirmed, “with some rest he will be fine.”

“Oh, thank Kami,” Matsuda sunk back heavily into the coach he had shot up from in his panic.

“What a relief,” Utika agreed with a huff, “do you know if we can see him?”

Watari nodded his head, “He woke up not long ago.”

They all left, jamming into two cars and speeding off to the hospital to see for their own eyes that the man was okay. When they reach the desk they were informed that Yagami-san was only permitted visits from family members. It was… disheartening, but nonetheless they all bustled back out of the hospital mood still as solemn as before, only less rushed.

“I’m sure he’ll be find,” Matsuda was the first to speak up, trying to lighten the mood. All it earned him was silencing glares. They returned to the hotel, returned to work because that was what the chief would want them to do.

 

 

Two days go by and Obito walked into the hotel to the sight of Ryuzaki reading a bright orange book with a picture of a blue-eyed, blonde-haired, jumpsuit-clad boy on the front cover. It made his heart skip a beat and his eye narrow in suspicion because he had read the book all of twice within the presence of the others – once with the comment of it reminding him of a friend, and the other with a brief wave of a hand that it helped him think. In no way should that mean L of all people would pick it up to read. Especially while they were still in the middle of the investigation.

Obito forced himself to act as normal as possible, settling down before asking the man anything, “Since when did you start reading Naruto?”

Ryuzaki lowered the book to the table before him, “I have been curious about them since you first brought one,” the detective said simply, bringing a cup of tea – no doubt more sugar than anything else – to his lips. “I thought now would be a good time as any to satisfy my curiosity, Obito-san.”

Obito couldn’t tell if the man was lying or not.

They were discussing the Naomi Misora case when Watari walked in with a rushing sound to his steps and urgency in his voice that was well hidden within his pleasant demeanor. “Ryuzaki. Take a look at Sakura TV. Something terrible is happening.”

The television was clicked on, the black screen coming to life with spots of light dancing across its surface revealing three people seated in a row, “In other words we are all Kira’s hostages.” That was the first line meeting the investigator’s ears. Obito stiffened. Had his challenge gone too far? Had it pushed the killer to try and kill innocents in order to drag the Akatsuki out?

“It is also our duty as news broadcasters to give you this announcement. Please understand this is not a hoax and that we are not airing these tapes solely for sensationalism.”

Obito’s mind raced through ideas, how’s and why’s and not understanding because Kira could be bold, was bold with Raye Penber but never this bold. Never this forthright.

“Four days ago, our program director was sent these four tapes. Without a doubt, they are from Kira. The first tape predicted the time of death of two suspected felons, yesterday. As predicted, they died yesterday of heart attacks.”

The broadcast went on, describing instructions given, supposedly, by Kira them self. The image changed then to a white backdrop with designed black writing across the screen, reminding the Uchiha heavily of L’s first appearance, only these letters formed the word ‘Kira’.

“I am Kira,” the distortedly deep voice exited the speakers, “if this video was aired on April eighteenth at exactly five fifty-nine PM, the time now is…” and the counting started, Obito like all the others were frozen in place watching, a sick feeling running in their stomachs in anticipation. “Please change the channel to Taiyo TV. The anchor, Mr. Kazuhiko Hibima will die of a heart attack at exactly six o’clock.”

And so they did.

And so he did.

TVs were requested to be brought in then, two, to be exact, placed one next to the other as to allow them to switch channels while still watching Kira’s broadcast. All the while the speakers spewed out the justification for the killing as a punishment for the transgressions of commenting on Kira’s more distasteful nature.

“There shall be another victim. The target is NHN TV commentator Mr. Seiji Kumaizumi. He has continued to condemn me. He is to appear live…”

And so they changed the channel.

And so he died.

“I trust you now believe that I’m Kira.”

“Something terrible will happen if we don’t stop this broadcast!” L suddenly burst out, and the Uchiha could not agree more, if they left this to play out then it would only lead to more innocent individuals being murdered. Matsuda ran off to grab the phone exclaiming he would ring up Sakura TV to try and stop them from continuing to show the recording.

“It’s no good,” Aizawa said in frustration, “no one I know at the station has their cell phones on.”

“The lines at the station are all busy!”

“Damn!” Ukita said before running off towards the door, a fiercely determined look in his eyes.

“Ukita!” Matsuda called for him.

“I’ll go to the station and stop this at the source,” it was said in a rush and before anyone could even begin to pick apart the jumble of words the man had left.

“Everyone, please listen to me,” Obito’s head snapped back towards the broadcast, “I don’t want to kill the innocent,” the Uchiha’s hands clenched and his teeth grinded together as he grit them. “I hate evil, and love justice. I consider the police as allies and not my enemy. I intend to create a world without evil. If everyone cooperates, this will be simple. If no one tries to catch me, the innocent will not die. Even if you don’t agree with me, keep your sentiments to yourself. Do not broadcast it. And I won’t kill you. Please be patient.”

The white-haired shinobi glanced as L out of the corner of his eye, the man had a thumb to his teeth, clenching his jaw and staring with wide, grey eyes at the screen – a nervously annoyed air about him that Obito had never seen before.

“I will create a better world for everyone. I will change this tainted world into a new one… where only kind people live. Imagine it.”

Obito’s body went painfully rigid at that statement sunk in, blood roaring in his ears as he remembered all the times he had thrown that same reasoning into the faces of those he manipulated. Had used that same reasoning, that same stride to destroy evil, preserve peace, as a justification for his merciless killing, his damning of entire villages and towns. Had used it to justify taking control of the world.

By the time his mind was cleared enough to focus on the present there were three televisions before the remaining investigators, and an emergency broadcast being posted of footage from the front of the Sakura TV station headquarters. Obito’s heart jumped into his throat he laid eyes on the prone form of Utika on the ground. Aizawa gasped from behind him.

“U-Utika! Damn it… It’s Kira, isn’t it?!” Aizawa is said, voice shaking before he suddenly moved to the door.

“Aizawa-san,” Ryuzaki called out, stopping the man for a second, “where are you going?”

“Where Utika is, of course.”

“That wouldn’t be good. Please think about this calmly.” The Uchiha nearly punched L in that moment, instead he too moved to stand beside the bush-haired investigator, grabbing his phone as he went, letting his hand fall onto the man’s shoulder and pulling him back slightly.

“I’ll go,” he murmured out, “you have more connections with the station than I do. We need you here,” Obito knew the excuse was loosely thrown together and easily taken apart to be seen as nothing more than a last second thought. But… But Utika had been his teammate during this investigation, become his _comrade_ the second they all decided to trust L and Obito had lost enough comrades already.

“Obito-san!” Ryuzaki cut through, voice no longer its normal tenure but a commandingly deeper tone, however, before the man could say another word the Uchiha spun around with a determined glare of one eye.

His nails dug into his palms, the burn a welcome sensation, “Those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash.” The words left his mouth before he could think properly on them, ignoring the slithering whisper that told him the last person he said these words to had been a friend he betrayed. There is more he could say, more explanations and righteous ideals about cowardice in the face of knowing what was right and not doing it.

Rin was hovering with a concerned pout, following behind him as he escaped the room and dashed down the hall unheeding the call of him to come back by the dark-haired detective. He ran, ran at speeds slightly above those of a civilian, only stopping long enough to make a clone and throw his belt and now-turned-on-phone at the bunshin with orders to get to the station within an appropriate amount of time by taking a cab. As his clone jumped to complete the orders he, himself, disappeared into his own dimension, pulling together his uniform and changing in a matter of seconds into his Akatsuki garb. He has never been happier that he decided to have his criminal persona openly oppose Kira for the past month or so. It made things so much easier for what he planned to do. His sharingans spin as he puled himself back into the world, already moving into a run that he added shunshin to as he made his way to his destination.

He’d get there before his clone at this rate. Perfect.

His feet hit the ground outside the station, ignoring the prickling sensation of being watched he quickly advanced towards the prone form of Utika laid out on the ground, cloak flapping with his swift movements. He could only imagine the reactions of the investigators at the moment, how terrified they must all be, how they must all believe him to be Kira. He scoffed under his breathe at such a thought, he’d be proving them wrong in a mere moment as it stood anyway. Just as the Uchiha leant down next to the body a screeching sound drew his attention up, and he watched in slow motion as a massive vehicle slammed into the side of the building, breaking the glass and opening a way to get in. Obito watched for a few moments more, enhancing his sense of hearing and picking up on an all-too-familiar voice.

‘ _Yagami-san,’_ he wondered, _‘what are you_ doing _here!?’_ The man was supposed to be in the hospital still, recovering from a heart attack, was he trying to have another? The Uchiha shook his head, he had other things to worry about as of right now.

Glancing down at the body before him he lifted his hands and lets his fingers fall into place to form a seal.


	5. Beauty Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers!
> 
> Soooo I realized I spelt Ukita’s name wrong A LOT in the last chapter… so freakin’ sorry about that, I went back and fixed it…
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter, hope you enjoy and please review!!

The hand sign formed carefully, Obito had read scrolls on this jutsu – however few that existed – studied the theory and the proper usage, the time limitations and estimated calculations of chakra requirements. But theory and application were only accurately aligned until you actually try to execute the feat. So he was cautious, performing the required steps with meticulous regard to detail because he couldn’t afford to screw up, not with the life of a comrade on the line. The fates have always favored the fool, and Obito prays that rushing into this with no plan counts enough in their eyes. He didn’t bother taking off his mask; the rinnegan only needed to be activated to perform the technique, it didn’t need to outright see the one being brought back. It was because of this intense concentration that he ignored the screeching of tires, the opening and closing of car doors, ignored it all until suddenly the cold trickle of _‘warning, danger,’_ slithered down his spine.

“Don’t move!” Obito cursed under his breath as the officer shouted the command, “Now, step away from the body with your hands up!”

Obito grit his teeth, seething at how these civilians are interrupting. All the same he stretched his criminal persona over himself like another mask, and didn’t move.

“I said hands up!”

“But Officer-san said not to move,” Tobi protested petulantly.

“Don’t make me sho-”

The man never finished his sentence, a choking gurgle of pain teared out of both officers’ throats before bodies collapsed with resounding thuds to the ground. Tobi whipped his head to the side to find the police limp on the pavement. He spun to a standing position, arms flapping like rag dolls at his sides before coming up to cup around his masked mouth as he rocked onto his toes and yelled into the night, “That wasn’t very nice Kira-chan!”

As he fell back onto the balls of his feet he glanced over at the camera crew retreating, his recently arrived clone the one dragging them further from the scene – thankfully the bunshin was strategically avoiding the cameras. Twisting his one-eyed gaze around to land on the downed officers he began muttering curses while a hand ran through the hair of his black wig, his other resting on his hip. They weren’t his comrades, he didn’t even know them, had never met them before and would never meet them again. There was absolutely no reason for him to save them. No reason to spend the chakra and risk the extra time it would take to drag out three lives instead of one from the Shinigami’s clutches. But. But Rin was hovering over the bodies and when the Uchiha blinked the slumped figures were no longer two officers in ugly blue uniforms. Instead a bloodied Uzumaki Naruto and a mangled Uchiha Sasuke lay looking up at him with glazed over eyes. Obito let out a frustrated growl, before gracefully falling to sit cross-legged on the ground and form the seals once more.

He had a lot to make up for from his past life, and he had more than enough chakra for three souls.

Besides, when had he ever cared much for timing; he’s always been late anyway.

The Shinigami king didn’t appear, there were no eerily glowing bundles of chakra flying through the air, no dramatic bursting explosions. Just a push of his energy into the jutsu, the draining of chakra from his coils, and the sudden gasping sound of air entering the lungs of three grown men.

Obito adamantly pushed down the part of himself that was disappointed at the lack of a flashy spectacle.

He stumbled as he rose, taking a moment to regain his balance and pressing a hand to where his rinnegan pulsed in his head. The Uchiha’s mind reeled at this show of weakness, because he shouldn’t be this disoriented after only bringing back three souls. Poking at his reserves he found them adequately full, nowhere near drained enough to elicit such a reaction. But he had too little time to ponder the dilemma at the moment, as he could hear blaring sirens closing in on his position. He looked behind him to find a line of buses carrying what he assumed to be this world’s version of ANBU heading straight towards the station headquarters. And subsequently him, _a_ _wanted criminal_. Turning to an alley not far from his position Obito sprinted into the shadows, melting into their welcoming tendrils before spiraling into his kamui dimension. Landing within the shadowy world he hurriedly changed back into his original outfit for the day so he could switch out with his clone and regain the damnable, annoying belt.

The ride back to the hotel was solemnly quiet, Yagami-san was driving and Obito questioned the merits of letting a recent heart-attack victim operate such a machine. But quickly forwent the thought when another pushed to the forefront of his mind.

Kira was there.

At least they were when he arrived, but after he brought back the three there was no doubt that the killer fled, and with so many buildings to search finding them would have been virtually impossible. Nonetheless it sent a wave of warm frustration through his body, settling into something like disappointment within the pit of his stomach.

Arriving back at the hotel he and Ukita steadily support Yagami-san as they make their way to the room of operations, the man justifiably exhausted, but there was a distinct look of triumph in their chief’s eyes as he hands Ryuzaki the bag of tapes. They help the chief into a chair as the detective instructs Aizawa to take the recordings to a lab to have copies made and an analysis run on the envelope they arrived in, to which the bush-haired man gave a nod, but instead of turning to bring the tapes to the right people he rushed towards Ukita. The once-dead detective took the tight hug that he was forced into in stride, a smile on his lips as Aizawa exclaimed his relief at his survival. Obito’s heart swelled at the sight and a wide grin split his face.

He glanced to the side and caught Ryuzaki’s gaze as the man stared at him, an almost unreadable expression on his face but the Uchiha could pick out relief stretching the lines of his body. The detective’s dark grey eyes turn away and towards the form of Ukita, the investigator now slumping into a chair next to the chief after being released from the embrace, “Ukita-san,” Ryuzaki started, an oddly awkward air about him, “it’s good to see you alive.”

Ukita sent a lopsided smile in the detective’s direction, “Thank you, it’s good to be alive… But it would be nice to know how…”

“What do you remember?” Yagami-san inquired, his voice slightly breathless with fatigue.

“I…” Ukita’s voice trailed off as he recalled the event, “I remember falling to the ground, and then the next thing I know I’m waking up and a man in an orange mask is above me…”

“The Akatsuki,” L supplied, “he showed up not long after you collapsed.”

“The Akatsuki?!” Ukita exclaimed in shock, “You’re saying _the Akatsuki_ saved me?”

Ryuzaki gave a confirming nod, “Yes.” A pause formed in which L scanned the man, “How are you feeling, Ukita-san?”

“F-Fine… I feel fine,” Ukita looked down at himself in slight confusion, “a little sore and tired, but it’s as if nothing happened… as if I hadn’t…” the man trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. The pause in conversation was longer this time, Ukita breaking it as he looked up at the detective, “Why? Why would the Akatsuki save _me_?”

“He has openly opposed Kira in the past, so it could be a logical next step in questioning Kira’s authority.” Ryuzaki reasons, his thumb pressed to his mouth as he thinks.

“Why now, why not do so earlier?” Aizawa brought up.

“The media coverage…” L muttered out, “The more who see Kira is not all powerful, the less who will support Kira out of fear.”

“But what about the news anchors that were killed?” Matsuda questioned. Obito cringed internally; he hadn’t even had a passing thought about them. With practiced ease he shoves the guilt away into the recesses of his mind so it may be dragged out later in his nightmares. Rin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and Obito leant into the touch, more than thankful for her silent support.

“Watari?”

“There has been no news of their revival,” the elder replied dutifully.

Ryuzaki walked over to a chair and settled into his strange position before he spoke again, “Perhaps… he must be in the presence of those he revives.” When silence fell once more it was a thoughtful one, lingering long enough that Obito’s eyelids became heavy as the exhaustion from before starts to make itself known again. With each blink of his eyes it became harder and harder to reopen them, and even though he can hear the conversation picking back up the Uchiha couldn’t muster the energy to stay awake as sleep stole away his conscious.

His eyes almost fly open with the feeling of a spike being lodged into his gut, but habit ingrained in him for survival stopped the action, only the slight jump in his pulse gave any sign to his new status of wakefulness. The nightmare wasn’t a new one, he had dreamt of Kaguya’s attack many times before, always waking up just as he was met with a mortal blow. What _is_ new is the state of his surroundings; the sound of shifting papers and quiet murmuring, the feeling of a light but warm fabric draped over him. As he picked out the distinctive voices Obito recalled the night prior – he had, apparently, fallen asleep on the chair in Ryuzaki’s hotel room due to a peculiar tiredness from using Gedo – Rinne Tensei no Jutsu _(Outer Path – Samasara of Heavenly Life Technique)._ Something that he could only conclude to either be a naturally occurring result of the jutsu or due to using such a technique in a world that didn’t even _have_ chakra.

Deciding there was no point in continuing to feign sleep any longer Obito blinked his eyes open and took in the room, the curtains are drawn to cover the windows, preventing him from telling the time through the angel of the sun. As he further shifted and rubbed at his covered eye Obito was met with stares from the other investigators to which he gave a sheepish half-smile.

“So you’re finally awake,” Aizawa snorted.

“Huh?” The Uchiha said intelligently, his hand dropping to rest in his lap on the startlingly soft blanket draped over him.

“You’ve been asleep all day, Obito-san,” Matsuda blurted out, brown eyes wide.

He choked on air at that, because that simply _couldn’t_ be right, didn’t make any sense. “All _day_?” He said incredulously – had the jutsu really taken _that_ much out of him?

“Twenty-one hours and thirty-two minutes,” Ryuzaki’s monotone voice slid across the room from his perch on his chair, teacup in hand. The look in the detectives eyes in calculating, and Obito got the marked feeling he had just given something away – a hint better left undiscovered. But it was shoved from his mind as the realization that Cho and Hisao most likely saw the news from the previous night and he could barely imagine how enraged they must be at his lack of contact.

“Twenty-one hours…” he breathed staring down at the floor with a widening eye.

“And thirty-two minutes, yes.” L confirmed, gaze never leaving the increasingly distressed Uchiha.

A groan strangled out of his throat and he buried his hand into his pants to pull out his phone - still on, but there were several missed calls (ten, ten missed calls from _each_ of them). He had the phone on silent, so it would make sense that the investigators wouldn’t have heard. “They’re going to kill me,” the words are said softly, but he was sure that the rest of the room had heard. He’s about to put the device away, about to shut it off, because L objects to them and right now it would be best to go along with the detective’s wants. But it goes off. A call coming through on the screen with the question of whether or not he wanted to answer. Cho. Well, it’s clear that he had already given something away, so at this point what was a little more? Especially something that would give little to no information; only tell that the Uchiha hadconcerned friends. And if L somehow managed to track them down and make contact… well… Hisao and Cho were smart enough not to give anything significant away.

“Who is going to kill you, Obito-san?” Ryuzaki called out as Obito still debated, and the sharingan user had yet to uncover how the man still managed to pull off that tone at all levels of volume.

“My friends,” he said as he hit the answering button and tentatively – not fearfully, because he was in _no way_ scared of Cho’s wrath – placed the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“What the hell were you thinking?!” With speeds that would make his old sensei proud Obito tugged the phone away from him, wincing at the power behind the woman’s yell. He moved to exit the room, rising to hit feet and moving to the door, but Ryuzaki was suddenly next to him with a hand on his shoulder, stopping the movement.

“Cho-nee-san,” he tried as he took a step away from the detective, but his surrogate sister barreled over his voice.

“Don’t ‘Nee-san’ me! And I swear to Kami if you dare give me any of your lame ass excuses!”

“My excuses aren’t lame…” he defended feeling slightly scandalized at the – admittedly true – accusation. He heard a snort from one of the investigators and twitched with the restraint required not to flip the offender off.

“I’m coming to get you, where the hell are you?”

“Cho I’m fine, you don’t need to-“

“Don’t need to my ass! You just challenged _Kira_ , Obito, _Kira_!”

“You can’t.”

“What do you mean I can’t?! Where are you?!” When he didn’t answer a frustrated growl left the woman’s throat. “Fine. Don’t tell me, I’ll just get the old man to trace your phone.”

Obito perked up at the mention of Hisao, “He’s there with you?”

“Of course! We’ve been worried sick, Obito, ever since we saw the news yesterday. Speaking of which you have a hell of a lot of explaining-”

Suddenly Cho cuts off with an indignant cry before Hisao’s voice comes over the phone, “My boy,” there was a tired ache in the lilt of tone, “what have you done?”

He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his white locks as the question sunks in, “What I had to.”

A dry humorless chuckle left the old man, “You young people these days, thinking you’re all invincible. You shouldn’t be going around getting yourself mixed up in situations like this.”

“Don’t go underestimating me now, old man,” he huffed out, though a small smile worked its way onto his face as he’s distinctly reminded of Kushina; both have the same underhanded ways of showing him they care. It made a warm pulse leave his heart and burn in his veins, because Hisao – for all his grumpy nature – truly wanted nothing more than for he and Cho to be safe, acting as a grandfatherly figure for them much like Watari does for L.

“I just pray you know what you’re doing.”

He gave a soft hum of acknowledgement before they say their goodbyes. Not a confirmation to that wish, because he didn’t know what he was doing, not really at least. He was taking a page out of Naruto’s book and rushing in without a fully drawn plan, improvising most steps of the way and just hoping it all turned out right. He could never pull off Naruto’s brash-rushing-in-head-first-without-forethought, nor the spontaneous decisions, not in the same way – the boy _was_ the number one hyperactive knuckleheaded ninja, after all. But he could at least allow himself this much leeway in his strategy, especially when something so unexpected happens. He was not sure he’d be able to pull it off again.

When the phone was set back onto the table, once more turned off, Ryuzaki spoke, his eyes penetrating as if trying to see into the Uchiha’s very soul and discover all his secrets, “Who was that?”

“Just some… over-protective friends,” he said before slipping out of the room and away from that stare with the mumbled excuse of needing the bathroom. When he returned, feeling slightly more refreshed – Watari had begun supplying them with the very basics for hygiene when they first started pulling all-nighters – he was informed of those developments missed in his sleep. Apparently the group had sent in the tape to be played that night; announcing that the police are refusing to cooperate with Kira and will, instead, face the demands that either L or the head of the NPA be executed for their refusal to help in the making of a ‘better world’.

The next day Bush-hair, Newbie, Ukita, Ryuzaki and he waited patiently for a verdict on what the higher-ups want from them as far as a response to the demands were concerned. The chief had been called to a meeting on the matter and would hopefully return any moment to inform them of the board’s decision. Watari had laid out tea and copious amounts of sugary snacks for the group to consume but only Ryuzaki touched them – the others too nervous to bother.

A few minutes more passed and Yagami-san entered with long strides, “Ryuzaki, it’s as you thought. Leaders of several countries have talked and they want the real L to appear on TV.”

“That would be the most right and reasonable choice,” the addressed detective started. “Well, we still have three days, so let’s think of a measure to prevent all that. It would annoy me…” Obito couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching with a suppressed laugh as the detective paused to eat a mouthful of strawberry cake, the man abnormally calm for someone just ordered to die, “if I’m killed by someone who’s jumped on Kira’s bandwagon.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is a high probability that this Kira is a fake. No, we should call him the Second Kira.”

Obito sucked in a sharp breathe at this possibility, because he had wondered at Kira’s irregular behavior but hadn’t broached the idea that it was an entirely different person subjecting the world to such a show. Thinking on it now, with the ability to look back – hindsight was always twenty-twenty Obito surmises bitterly – it made a sort of sense. And as L weaved his extraordinary explanation to how he reached the conclusion by pointing out the stark differences between the chosen victims, Obito couldn’t help but be drawn into a sea of nostalgia. Back to when he had taken on the guise of Madara, and Tobi. Really, the entire set of circumstances at that time could be summarized as hilarious when seen in hindsight; he was one person disguised as Madara while playing the role of Tobi.

And he had managed to fool _everyone_.

Rin poked him in the side none-too-gently to make him pay attention once more, and he barely managed to stop himself from shooting her an annoyed look. Because it wasn’t just that thought catching him up in his inattentive behavior, but the fact that L could deduce all of this so quickly. The man’s mind is incredible and Obito desperately wanted to know more about how it worked, wanted to know _everything._

“What are the chances that there is a second Kira?” Yagami-san worriedly inquired.

“This time it’s more than a seventy percent chance. I don’t like the way he does things. It’s not like Kira.”

“Not like Kira?” Matsuda piped up, brown orbs alight with confusion.

“Why does he keep saying ‘him’ and ‘he’?” Rin pouted from where she was hovering near Obito’s shoulder, “Kira could just as well be a girl, Ryuzaki even said the victims were in _girl’s_ magazines.” She huffed and crossed her arms. Obito dutifully filed that away for later.

“Kira has always avoided innocent victims, aside from those who have tried to catch him. If we catch one Kira, I think we’ll get a hint as to how we can catch the other. Yagami-san, may I ask your son to cooperate in this investigation?”

“Does that mean he’s no longer a suspect?”

Obito wanted to cry out that no, they shouldn’t remove him from the list of suspects but bit his tongue for he hadno means by which to properly justify his objections. Saying _‘there’s a strange shadow following him around and my shinobi senses are tingling’_ would more likely get him thrown off the investigation and into a mental hospital than anything else.

“No,” that one word made Obito relax, however imperceptible the action was, “I can’t say that he’s been cleared, but I could use his deductive skills.”

“If my son wants to cooperate with you, I have no reason to stop you.”

“Thank you. But please keep it a secret that this current Kira might be a fake. Please make it seem as if we’re chasing the same Kira.”

They agree, after a brief explanation that Obito was only paying haft-attention to with the amount of relief coursing through his body. Not only was Light not fully cleared but this also meant that he would have an opportunity to interact with the boy, allowing him a better look at his personality and to try and get him to slip up with all the underhanded means that shinobi have.

Surprisingly the boy was drawn into the chaos the next day, the Uchiha had thought there would be a wider gap in time between their conversation and introducing the Kira suspect to the investigators. But it seems he was wrong.

“Thank you, Yagami-kun,” L said as he shook Light’s hand.

“Not at all. Ryuga, we both want to catch Kira,” the boy repliedamicably. But Obito thought it sounded off, too prepared, too fake. Like a mask.

“Please call be Ryuzaki here.”

“I’m Matsui,” Newbie introduced.

“I’m Aihara,” Bush-hair presented.

“I’m Ukiyo,” Ukita exclaimed – really Obito needfd to find a good nickname for him, saying once-dead-investigator may come off as… insensitive, after all.

“Tachibana,” he offered with a small, lazy, wave of one hand.

“And I’m Asahi,” the boy’s father spoke up.

“I see,” the son gave a small nod, turning back towards Ryuzaki, “well, would it be all right if I’m Asahi Light?”

“Please do. I will call you Light here. Now to business. Take a look at our current information on Kira.”

As Ryuzaki explained what he wished for the boy to do Obito discretely activated his sharingan and placed a genjutsu over the eye to make it appear normal, wanting to see if the shadow was following the boy even now. The Uchiha wasn’t overly shocked when he found that it was hovering there above by the boy’s shoulder as if the creature… shadow… _thing_ was watching the tape as well. He expertly masked his observation, masked his reactions as the thing moved and shifted.

“What do you think, Light-kun? Did you get something from it?” Ryuzaki approached the brown haired boy – and truly Obito needed to stop calling him a ‘boy’ when he was more than suspicious of Light being Kira. Once one gained the ability to kill so cold heartedly any innocence left was obliterated and the title ‘boy’ was meaningless. Though it stood to reason that with how childish Kira was and the goals he had set out for himself in his egotistically kami-wanna-be manner such a title was fitting.

Perhaps that was why Madara never broke the habit of calling him ‘boy’.

Then again it could just be because it was Madara.

Obito watched closely, everything exemplified by the activation of his sharingan, as Light reacted. The tightening of his hand against the fabric of the chair, the way he rose to his feet, the tilt of his head, even the slightest traces of frustrated anger almost perfectly covered up. All of it played out before him.

“There may be more than one person who has Kira’s power.”

“K-Kira’s power?! Light, what do you mean?!” The bo- man’s father cried out.

“There is a good chance that this is not the Kira we’ve known up to now. Up to now, Kira’s never used suspects like these for his announced killings. And if Kira needs a face and a name to kill isn’t it strange that he was able to kill the detective and officers who happened to rush to the television-station?”

“I-It’s the same.” Aizawa stuttered out. And Obito had to clench his jaw, because, yes, it was the same. The same reasoning. The same thought process. Or. Perhaps a reversed process, as it would stand that if Light was Kira then the man would know that this was not him, and simply needed an explanation for that knowledge.

 “That’s right, Light-kun. I also think we are looking at a second Kira.”

“So you knew, Ryuga, I mean Ryuzaki?” Light moved to cross his arms but there was a stiffness to the bo- man’s movements that Obito’s sharingan picked up on, “Did you test me, knowing that?”

“I didn’t test you,” and it was then that the Uchiha realized just how _good_ of a liar L truly was. “It’s not convincing if I’m the only one who argues that there is a second Kira. With you coming to the same conclusion as I did, my theory becomes more believable. You’ve been a great assistance to me, Light-kun. Thank you.”

It was then that L revealed his real intentions of drawing Light into the investigation at such a pivotal time – wanting the man to act as the real Kira by writing a response to the second. All justified by the idea that finding and taking down the second Kira will lead to the downfall of the original. The handing of such a role to Light reasoned out to his genius, with a quick continuation of needed speed in order for the message to be aired on the news that very night. The shadowy creature seemed to be shaking as L finished his explanation, and Obito wondered absently if it was laughing but tossed the theory away, if the creature was the source of Kira’s powers then it surely wouldn’t laugh at seeing its contract holder be put in danger. Right?

The strange shadow must grow bored at one point while Light was writing out his thoughts on how Kira would reply to such a message, because it floats away from its contract holder and ambled around the room. Obito took note of its seemly random path, but the movements truly are only _seemingly_ without destination because the creature constantly closed the distance between Obito and it. He couldn’t exactly run away, or suddenly move to a different spot in the room each time it got too close as that would seem suspicious and just plain abnormal. So he sat, and waited with buzzing nerves, thankful that his old teammate wasn’t beside him as he wasn’t entirely sure how she would react to the creature approaching him. Rin was, in fact, further away, concentrating on memorizing everything Light wrote, because crossed out lines and tossed away sentences can tell just as much as the final draft, and Obito was not about to let that opportunity pass by.

The distortion stopped before him, shading the space in front of the Uchiha with strange whispering patterns of black mist that swirl and ebb around the edges. Obito made no indication of noticing it other than a swift angling of his eyes that none of the others in the room see. A full minute passed, the Uchiha counting the seconds within his head, and the shadow lingered still, seemingly observing him. It was unnerving, truly, to be the only one of the investigators seeing this strange apparition and to have it know. To have it watch him. The feeling of eyes on his figure was burning brightly in his conscious, the shinobi in him screaming to hide or take out the source of discomfort. He suppresses that urge, a skill that had become less of a struggle with its constant use since entering this reality.

His attention was only partly on the script in his hands, focusing the majority of his senses onto the being before him. Which was, perhaps, the only reason he had ample time to prepare himself when a wisp-ing string of shadow reached out towards him – it moved slow, as if laughing at his inability to escape, because it surely must have known that Obito could see it as the shade hadn’t taken such actions with any other investigator.

It felt… all encompassing, even though only a sliver of the being made contact with his skin – Obito noted it seemed incapable of passing through him. A full-body shudder wracked his frame despite the fact he attempted valiantly to stop the reaction, it was as if he had been submerged into a vat of ice. So cold that his skin burned, and his muscle ached. Like Kakashi had shoved a chidori down his throat, strong enough to be felt but watered down perfectly to allow his healing factor to keep him alive for the experience. The Uchiha’s hand slid up and pressed against his covered eye, the orb sending strange sensations throughout his body. He wanted to scramble backwards and cut all contact off, but his severe reaction had already brought enough attention. Enough that all he could do in retaliation was shoot a withering glare at the shade, however brief the action was, it made him feel better – a more childish part welled up and advocated that sticking his tongue out at the creature would have been just as effective.

“Obito-san?” Matsuda called his name cautiously, a concerned wobble in his young voice.

He lifted his free hand and waved away any further questions, “I’m fine. Just...” gesturing to his covered eye still being pressed Obito offered a wane smile. “It aches sometimes.”

“That seems like more than an ache,” Ukita frowned at him, but he said it barely above a whisper and the Uchiha believed he wasn’t even meant to hear so he didn’t bother with a response. Really it wasn’t that much of a lie in the first place; when the eye had been originally taken and nothing but a hollow socket remained it had throbbed dully more often than not, with spasms of severe pain dispersed throughout the day. They were phantom pains he learned, something his healing factor would not be capable of dealing with as it was his body reaching out and searching for something that was no longer there. When he was given the rinnegan it had all but disappeared, and once he received his eye back from Kakashi the ache left completely.

The other detectives seemed to take his explanation at face value, L’s eyes lingering for a moment longer but nothing more. It was Light that he noticed giving him the most attention, his brown gaze swiftly flickering between the shadow and Obito as he wrote.

Once Yagami-san’s son completed his rendering of a Kira-worthy response he handed it over to Ryuzaki, the other investigators glanced up to see if this draft will be approved or if the esteemed detective will send the boy back to the drawing board. It was, surprisingly, not L who spoke first.

“You read ‘Naruto’?” Obito froze slightly at the question, his gaze following Light’s to see a copy of volume sixteen limply held in Ryuzaki’s hand – the Uchiha would swear he had seen volume thirty just the day before.

“Yes,” the detective said as bluntly as ever, “Obito brought a copy and I became interested.”

When Light looked over at him he gave a wave and too-wide smile, eye squinting with the movement so the man couldn’t see the calculating mistrust in his gaze.

“He’s a transfer,” Yagami-san spoke up.

“Oh, that explains why I didn’t recognize you. I know most of my dad’s colleagues, after all.” Obito blinked at that, but before he could say a word Light continued, “But why does he call you ‘Obito’, I thought your alias is Tachibana-san?”

“You heard his name earlier from Matsui-san.” L jumped in to explain, “It would be pointless now to continue calling him anything else.”

Light gave a small nod of understanding – Matsuda shrinking into his seat, a guilty look on his face – before turning his head back to face the Uchiha, “Obito-san, if I may ask, how’d you manage to get Ryuzaki to read ‘Naruto’?”

Obito gave a small shrug, “It’s like he said, I brought a copy to help me think and he became interested.”

“Do you read them as well, Light-kun?” L questioned.

“My sister forced me to read about half of them with her one summer,” the man said simply.

“Only half?”

“She became annoyed with me when I pointed out all the plot holes.”

Obito blinked at that statement, _‘plot holes?’_

“Did he just say there are plot holes in our life?” Rin echoed his sentiments.

Ryuzaki nodded, “But the characters are engaging. Who was your favorite, Light-kun?”

There is a pause before he gave a small shrug, “I didn’t really have a favorite.”

“Surely there was one character you liked over the others?” Ryuzaki pressed. “Everyone has favorites.”

“If that’s true then who is your favorite, Ryuzaki?” Light shot back, his arms crossing over his chest.

L blinked at the brown haired person before him, “I asked you first.”

Obito poorly attempted to smother the laugh bubbling in his chest as the two stared each other down, the entire situation was childish. Despite knowing that the detective was only testing Light the Uchiha couldn’t help the swelling mirth inside of him.

“Perhaps we should focus on the investigation, Ryuzaki,” the chief spoke up tentatively, breaking a tension that Obito hadn’t paid much attention to.

L nodded at Yagami-san before looking back down at the paper held between two fingers, “I think this is very good, though if we don’t remove the part which says, ‘you’re free to kill L,’ I’ll die.”

The laugh that Light let out is abnormal, too practiced and perfect, not the laugh that a person of his age and background should have. Every shinobi nerve in Obito’s body screamed that it as fake, that it was all part of an elaborately built mask – he knew masks better than anyone after all. “Well, when pretending to be Kira, I thought he would demand that you be killed. It’s just a bit of a joke. You can change that to whatever you like.”

The posture is relaxed. Casual in a way it shouldn’t be for the situation. Forced in a way that did nothing but put neon signs up announcing a farce. To any civilian, even those of brilliant minds, it would seem natural, but to a shinobi – maybe even a chunin – the entirety of Light’s body language portrayed deception and manipulation. It set the Uchiha on edge.

They all gathered around the TV to watch as several news stations broadcast their message – the screen that came up had ‘Kira’ in a penned cursive scrawled across an off-white background with… sparkles of all things.

“Sparkles?” He couldn’t help but snort out with a halfheartedly covered snicker.

“I thought it looked nice,” Ryuzaki looked up at him from his seated position with balefully confused slate-grey eyes. The look sent Rin in a fit of giggles where she hovered by his shoulder, and he himself couldn’t suppress the laughing grin that split his cheeks and forced his eye to squint.

“Yes,” Obito nodded, schooling his face into something comically solemn, “very Kira.”

He met L’s gaze steadily, and it only took a few seconds before a smile burst across his face. Obito could see the sparkle of mirth in the detective’s eyes even as he covered up a twitch of his lip by pressing his thumb to his teeth.

Two days later they receive a response.

“Kira-san, thank you for your reply.”

_‘Well,’_ Obito thought, _‘that pretty much confirms L’s theory.’_

“I will do as you say. I want to meet you. I don’t think you have the eyes, but…” Obito’s entire body went rigid at that, mind flashing through all the possible doujutsu in his world, even those that are only rumors, theory, false stories told to children at night to scare them. But pulled up only the rinnegan that could ever control life or death. His hand twitched minutely to go up and reach for his left eye, but refrained, it would be too suspicious. Rin poked him in the side and pointedly looked to where Light is standing with wide eyes. Eyes that _know_.

“I won’t try to kill you,” the brown-haired man ‘discretely’ looked around at the reaction of the others. “Please don’t worry.”

Others in the room contemplated the meaning, but Obito stayed decidedly quiet, more out of an uneasy churning in his gut than anything else.

“Please tell me how I can meet you without the police finding out. When we meet, we can confirm out identities by showing our Shinigami to each other.”

His heart stopped. Skipping a beat as a cold wash of dread ran from the base of his neck to his chest where his heart pumped the acidic sensation throughout his body. Shorter breathed made his torso rise and fall rapidly, these few reactions something he was incapable of hiding with such a shock.

L’s reaction was more… noticeable to say the least, and made his own heart sputter back into a more normal rhythm as Obito was forced to rush forward and catch the falling detective – though he doesn’t bother to stop the chair from tipping. It was over dramatic and made Obito want to laugh, but the current situation was too serious for such a brash response. The detective looked up at him with surprised eyes, obviously expecting to have been met with a hard ground instead of strong arms.

“R-Ryzuaki!” Aizawa called out, coming to stand next to the two, “Are you alright?”

“Shi-Shini…gami?!” L stuttered out, eyes wide and voice quivering with what Obito could only conclude to be fear. “Do I have to accept the existence of something like that?!”

Obito helped the man to sit up, letting out a put-upon sigh – really are people in this universe that adverse to things such as this?

“Is it really so hard to accept?” He muttered out his thoughts, “I mean, the Akatsuki brought three people back from the dead. And Kira can kill with just a name and face. Is it really that impossible?”

“This isn’t a graphic novel, Obito-san,” Light said from behind them. “Gods of death don’t exist in the real world.”

_‘What do you know about reality?’_ Obito wanted to snarl out, because his world, his _home_ was very much real. And to imply so callously that it was not left a poorly bitter taste at the back of his throat. It pushed aside the sacrifices made, the losses suffered and the pain all who he cared for have felt as if it was nothing. It stepped over his heart, made a mockery of the blood staining his hands, spit on the graves of those he killed and those he cried for.

And what was more; he had insurmountable proof that Shinigami _do_ in fact exist within this dimension – the rinnegan worked after all. And perhaps it would have worked without the active presence of death gods but the jutsu he used specifically called upon a Shinigami to spew back the souls.

“Kira had those criminals in prison write something about Shinigami…” Ryuzaki pointed out, and Obito frowned as he saw that the man’s body was still shaking slightly. He forgot sometimes that L was still a civilian, a brilliant, cunning detective that took down the worst of criminals, but still a civilian and subjects such as these could induce states of shock. So he reached out, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder in the same comforting manner as Rin had done for him and all his teammates before, sending a calming jolt of warm chakra from his fingertips and into the detective’s system. He received a questioning yet grateful look in response, but L had stopped shaking and would be capable of clearer thoughts now, so Obito was willing to take any inquires and suspicions for his action that could arise.

“So shouldn’t we assume that this is the same Kira?” Yagami-san stepped forward. “It’s the same person, so they say the same things.”

“That can’t be, Dad,” Light rejected the idea, “If this is the same Kira from before, he wouldn’t have replied to our video. There is no way that the real Kira would go through the trouble of getting L to appear on TV, only to stop trying to kill him.”

“Then maybe the real Kira and the Second Kira already have established a connection,” Aizawa thought aloud.

“And decided to use the word ‘Shinigami’ to throw off the investigation.” Ukita added on, a hand to his chin as he stared off into the distance with a thoughtful look.

“That’s not possible. It’s as Light says.” Ryuzaki countered as he lifted his chair and repositioned himself in it. Obito grit his teeth at how these people so easily reject the idea of anything outside the world of what they could perceive with their own eyes. “If the two Kiras were connected, I don’t think he would stop trying to kill me. Second Kira is acting independent of the first. He wants to meet the real Kira.”

“That’s right. He’s acting out of interest in Kira. ‘Shinigami’ probably refers to their killing power,” Light pointed out in what Obito can only take as a smug jab to his own ideas.

By the end of the night Obito was about ready to tear his hair out… Or Light’s head off. The second, while illegal, would be infinitely more relieving. Granted L’s idea of leaving the rest to the two Kiras was something that the Uchiha approved of, and the look on Light’s face when it was said was priceless. Obito had no doubt that Yagami-san’s son was the original Kira, his mask too suspiciously perfect, the reactions to the second Kira’s message too real, the strange shadow following him that felt like death too much of a coincidence. It all pointed to only one conclusion. All Obito needed to do was prove it.

 

 

 

He received a request.

Or, more accurately the Akatsuki received one.

Hisao had called him in just as he was leaving the hotel early – the sun not yet completely set for once as he exited, bathing the city in an orange mist that poured over the buildings and turned the world into a picturesque watercolor. Apparently the letter was peculiar, with not a single marking to give him any indication of the sender on the outside, only the word ‘urgent’ was to be found.

When he arrived at the shop Cho wasn’t there and Hisao didn’t ask questions, simply tipped his old hat at Obito with an all-too-kind offer for him to come to dinner by the end of the week. The Uchiha nodded along, and when the man walked out to the dinging of a bell with the explanation of getting supplies he didn’t question it or stop him.

Though being solicited for a job was not extraordinarily outlandish, the sender of this particular mission was – Obito had never been happier that Hisao and Cho weren’t there. The outside of the envelope was blank with the exception of a red ‘URGENT’ stamped on, and a few wrinkles from Hisao handling the parcel. Inside, the paper was of standard size, the words typed, as all his requests are.

It was the glaring lettering largely printed in stylized calligraphy at the bottom which grabbed his attention and made his breathe catch in his throat.

‘L.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:: Before anyone gets mad about the mention of plot holes in Naruto, I really just referring to some time discrepancies, and just little things, not much else.
> 
> To answer some questions: This is pre-slash at best (for a lot of reasons that if you really want to know you can PM me because super long A/Ns are things I really attempt to avoid).
> 
> The Uchiha’s names and a few other names in the ‘Naruto’ books from this world are different (so the Uchihas aren’t called Uchihas). It will be explained more towards the end…


	6. Check Escape Routes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter took forever to write… mostly because it was originally three times as long and I had to split it into three chapters…
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoy the chapter! And please please please review!

_'Why'_ was the first question rising in the back of his throat and strangling his mind; but the answer was so obvious that the Uchiha felt stupid for even asking. His criminal persona had all but outright proclaimed himself against Kira by bringing back Ukita and those officers. L would no doubt want to speak to the Akatsuki about such a thing. The second came and swam for only a moment before disappearing; _'how'_. Because whose Obito kidding? Of course Ryuzaki knew how to get in contact with the Akatsuki, he probably knew weeks ago and only in the wake of recent events saw a good reason to use that knowledge. The questions now become if he should trust this request, if the request truly was from L or not, and whether he should accept it.

The letter itself seemed genuine; asking him to face off against a group of thugs in an abandoned warehouse towards the outskirts of the city tomorrow. There _had_ been some news circling the underground that there's a new gang trying to rise up in that area. But what would it prove to L if he were to take this job? If the described mission is even what it was truly about.

Obito wasn't stupid, despite what his old genin team might have think; he was been a shinobi for his entire life, there was never another career path for him. So he could recognize a trap when he saw one, and he was highly skeptical that L wouldn't expect him to see it, especially when he signs the letter. So curiosity had to be what Ryuzaki was banking on right now; hoping that the Akatsuki would be curious enough about the request and what it truly was to accept. And damn it all Obito _was_ curious, wanted to know what the man could be trying to do with this meeting. On one hand they could finally be trying to capture him and put him in prison for all the murders he had committed. But if that was true why bother signing his name on a slip built for an ambush? Maybe to rub it in the Akatsuki’s face who caught him? But if that was the case then why not wait to do so until he was actually caught? And even then, with how much prestige the Akatsuki had on his missions it would suit the entire situation better to simply not admit to who the capturing party were at all.

Or, perhaps, Obito was over thinking the entire situation and L simply wanted to question him about his part in the Sakura TV incident. There was even a possibility it was the new gang sending the request to set up an ambush and try to take him out in order to establish themselves more prominently. There were a number of potential outcomes to accepting this mission and with how close-minded this world was to chakra related subjects Obito had little doubt that he was being underestimated – or classed with the physical capabilities of an above average civilian. He hadn’t used even half of his techniques since he had arrived in this plane of existence and so they have no knowledge of what he could actually do, and this world had no means of stopping even those techniques he _had_ shown.

So he accepted. And sent a wood clone to the hotel the next day, because at the most disappointing the fates would lead him into a horribly planned ambush by an up-and-coming gang, and on the other side of the spectrum they could put his criminal persona face to face with this reality’s most revered detective.

Which will be undeniably entertaining.

What turns out to be less entertaining was the group of armed thugs he met upon entrance of the building; maybe entering through the front door hadn’t been his brightest idea after all.

He’d make sure to listen to Rin next time, if only because hearing her repeatedly chant _‘told you so!’_ over and over again as he dodged bats and bullets wasn’t his ideal way to start the evening.

“Missed me!” Tobi sung too happily for the fact he was almost brained by a metal rod. A bullet wizzes past him, his sharingan ensuring that the graze it would have left never even had a chance to cut his skin. “Missed me again! Gee, you guys are pretty bad at this.”

He weaved out of the way of an ill-timed tackle, “You ever think about another career path?” He slammed one of the goons into another and watched in interest as they tumbled across the floor and into the wall – they didn’t get up.

It didn’t take long, five minutes at most, to knock out all ten members – and really, they only sent _ten_ to deal with him, _really._ He would feel more offended by this fact if it weren’t for his attention being grabbed by the computer screen, settled on a small table placed further back in the empty warehouse.

A white screen with a darkly lettered ‘L’ displayed sharply.

_‘Oh,’_ Obito thought, _‘so that’s what the gang was for. He needed to confirm I’m the Akatsuki.’_

Rin, who had moved to the side – out of range of his fight – came to hover back next to him. Her brown orbs were alight with interest as she looked to the screen, probably making the same connections that he was in that moment. And if the computer was not confirmation enough then the sound of a gender-neutral digitally generated voice filling the space was.

“I am L. It’s nice to meet you, Akatsuki.”

“Well that’s one way to greet someone,” Rin muttered, the sentence partly falling to be a grumble under her breath.

Tobi said nothing at first, opting to walk till he was a mere two feet from the device before leaning forward with his hands on his hips. “Hello L-chan, I’m Tobi!”

There was a pause, in which he had no doubt L was wondering at the reasoning behind giving his name so casually – most likely, and rightly, concluding that it was a false one.

“You oppose Kira.” L gets right to the point, only mildly shocking the masked man. It came out as a statement not a question, so Tobi treated it such.

“So does L-chan.”

“I am fighting for justice,” the detective countered, distorted voice as monotone as ever. “Why are you?”

He rocked on his feet a finger tapping against his masked chin, “Kira-chan is evil.”

“Because he kills people?”

Tobi shook his arms back and forth to negate that thought. And maybe he struck a bit too close to home with his next sentence, hit a little too close to the burning wound of self-loathing that swallowed him in the depths of night. But he said it anyway. “Because Kira-chan wants to create a fake world.”

“Fake… world?”

“Killing all the bad-people won’t make peace,” he said, biting down on the rest of his sentence because _Tobi_ wouldn’t say _‘peace ruled by fear and pain is an illusion’_.

“Why did you save those officers and investigator?” The abrupt change in conversational direction left the cloaked man thinking he missed something. But the way Rin was blinking as if running through the last few seconds of conversation meant she was just as shocked by the question, dictating that it was, in fact, an abrupt shift.

He expected this question, knew it was coming and yet he still does not have an appropriate answer. For obvious reasons he couldn’t say was was due to his own personal beliefs in never leaving a comrade behind when you could do something, _anything_ , to help them. And to bring up his sensei’s old saying – about how cowardice was knowing what was right and not doing it – might give too much away should the detective have read that already, Obito had already quoted ‘Naruto’ once after all. Besides, the sentiment was wholly out of character for Tobi.

His persona was goofy, one that made jokes out of any situation funny or not, one built to mess with others for his own amusement as he wore the mask. One with a false happiness that, when he first dawned the character, Obito had allowed himself to believe was real at times.

“Hmm, because,” he sounded out while sliding his body down to sit cross-legged on the floor, an elbow propped on his knee to hold a head that swiveled loosely around as if to take in his surroundings, a stupidly out of tune song hummed from his lips. A long pause occurred in which the only sound was the wind scraping against rotting walls and old window panes.

“Because…” the electronic voice trails off in an inquiring tone.

He made a questioning sound in the back of his throat, “Because what?”

“You did not finish your sentence,” the detective said simply.

“What sentence?”

“The one answering my question.”

“What question?”

There was a pause again, one that he liked to think came from frustration, “For what reason did you save the officers and investigator?”

“Oh!” He said happily, “Because I wanted to get Kira-chan’s attention!”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want Kira’s attention?” He took pleasure in the fact that, even though it was electronically produced, the monotone voice sounded strained.

“To tell Kira-chan that what Kira-chan’s doing is evil.”

“So you brought three people back to life.”

“Yep!” He nodded his head eagerly, even as it still rested in his hand.

“Why didn’t you save the others that were killed by Kira? The news anchors?”

His body froze for but a split second at the question, breathe sticking somewhere in his throat and eyes going wider because that guilt was still with him. It still came to him when his mind was idled with sleep, as all his failures, his mistakes, his sins were want to do. But he had to answer, or maybe he didn't. Maybe saying nothing in the wake of this neglect – and he didn't believe that word was strong enough to encompass the extent of what letting someone die constitutes – was answer enough in itself for someone as intellectually empowered as L.

Because what _could_ he say to this; that he had a moment of oversight in his mad scrambling dash to save a team member, that his mind omitted these individuals because they were not held as important to him. And what would that say about him, then? Where had the man that Uzumaki Naruto dragged back to the surface gone? Especially in the wake of realization that he had to see those two officers as the bodies of Sasuke and Naruto to come to the decision to save them. Where was that progress he thought he was making in repenting for his past life in his home dimension?

Rin's hand came to rest on his shoulder, seeming to sense his sudden shift, "Obito?"

It was a heart clenching, guilt strangling understanding to come to: he wasn't Naruto. He couldn't think of everyone at once, couldn't see every person as worth saving, wasn't capable of doing so if these events were to be shown as evidence. And he wanted to be Hokage? How laughable a dream that was now.

How pathetically laughable.

"Obito?" Rin called to him again, her purple marked face swimming into focus before him. "Maybe we should go."

Running. He was always running. Running from the past, running from his pain and heart ache and guilt. Running from his sins and nightmares. And what had that given him? Where had that led him but into the arms of a madman, into insanity that twisted his mind enough to make him believe a mass illusionary peace was his only option.

_‘You’re just trying to run away from everything!’_

Running and failing. Always tripping and falling short of every good deed he tried to do.

It seemed his clumsiness hadn't left him from his genin days.

And Naruto had fought to save such a person, fought to bring him back to the light. Why? What good could he have possibly seen?

"Obito!" Rin shouted, a fist coming down to hit him over the head – though the feeling and her voice only dredged up more memories.

_‘Show me how you’ll save the world!’_

But what happened when his world was only so big to hold those he considers precious, what then? What happened when _his_ world wasn’t the _entire_ world, but only that which he could stretch his worn heart around?

_‘Having everyone close to me really makes me happy!! And that’s enough to give me power!!’_ Naruto’s raging voice burst into his head, the memory of that sentence being screamed against his onslaught of slandering the boy’s dream.

_‘Ah, so that's it,’_ and even in his head his voice sounded as if an epiphany had shifted a puzzle piece into place.

Naruto's world was his precious people too. Only his heart was big enough to have _more_ , to open up that status to many more than Obito ever could. And the blonde protected them, saved his world as best he could.

And even then he, the Child of Prophecy, couldn’t save everyone.

So why should he, the monster trying to be good, be expected to do anything more?

_'Not even in the same dimension anymore and you're still knocking sense into me,’_ he thought with wry smile.

He barely stopped his body from shaking with the relief filled laughter bubbling inside him, the blonde was right; growing up and giving up are two separate, mutually exclusive, occurrences. Obito had given up, but he suspected that should he have gone to the afterlife and met death as he was supposed to it would have been in a body not a day past thirteen. But he didn’t. Die that was, no matter how he wanted to, no matter the fates defying their own fairytale where the monster died in the end. He had been given another chance, even if it was in a different reality. Had made a new world for himself with a ghostly Rin, grumpy Hisao, shark-smiled Cho, sugar loving L, and group of justice seeking investigators. A world where he wasn’t the monster, the madman, the lost boy trying to take over. A world that he will make the most of, he determined. And in this moment that meant playing Tobi.

And so he did.

With his head propped in his hand he released a relaxing slow breathe of air, one only let out when a person was trapped in the throes of sleep. He then let his hand slip from underneath his chin so that his head fell, unsupported, with well-worn acting skills he jolted ‘awake’.

“Huh, what?” He looked around frantically, head whipping into a blurring motion as he turns it from side to side, after a moment he let if focus back on the screen with a small, “Oh.” The silence continued to stretch for a few seconds longer, before Tobi curiously asked, “Did you say something, L-chan?”

“I…” the detective started but trailed off, seemingly thinking better of repeating the question. Tobi doubted that L hadn’t already drawn his conclusion, “Regardless, I would like to work with you,” the distorted computer voice announced, the screen changing to show a typed address, clearly meant to be an invitation for him to go there. He wasn’t sure he wanted to; the address wasn’t the same as the hotel he knew L was currently taking residence in, and Tobi would rather meet the man on his own terms when he was sure there weren’t any alternate intentions behind everything. (If he even meets him at all while wearing this persona, that is.)

Tobi tilted his head, one eye staring at the computer screen before him and contemplating the request – threat really, because this building was surrounded by police ready to take him in; he could hear the men shifting around outside. But escape had never been a problem for him – barring the time he was crushed, but that really shouldn’t count; he was only a _chunin_ back then and filled with idealistic notions of sacrifice – and this time would be no different.

“Sorry, L-chan!” He yelled overly happy, too cheerful, voice obnoxiously high. Tobi reached a gloved hand into his cloak and pulled out a smoke bomb before dramatically throwing it to the ground in an explosion of grey clouds hiding his figure. When they clear and the area once more was visible to those watching beyond the lens of the camera he was… still there. “Huh… oh, oops,” he awkwardly laughed while rubbing the back of his head in feigned embarrassment, “forgot to run… heh.”

He stood there for a moment more before sprinting to the side he believed the most police vehicles were stationed at, opened the door to leave, stared at the rows of cars for a second before slamming the door shut. He then abruptly turned and ran in the opposite direction and repeated the action.

“L-chan isn’t playing fair!” He screamed dejectedly, as if the whole situation was putting him on the verge of tears while running to a third exit that had just as many police. He skid to a tittering halt, melodramatically whirling around as if he had no further ideas as to escaping – but like he said, escaping had never been much of a problem for him. Stopping the spin to face the staircase Tobi slid over to it, quickly ascending them, taking note of all the cameras – really these people are _obsessed_ with these machines – strategically placed to give him no shadows worthy of hiding within. Up and up and up and up to the very top floor he scampered, pausing only to listen for a brief moment as the stomping of civilian officers giving chase echoes off the walls – his own footsteps silent. Pushing open a heavy-set metal door Tobi found himself on the roof of the warehouse, a line of armed men and a computer stationed a few meters from the door. He internally snickered; L has planned this, thought of it all – or, well, almost all of it. Really he wouldn’t be so surprised by the number of men if it weren’t for the fact that these people _don’t have chakra signatures_ , something that had been a constant frustration to the Uchiha since entering this reality.

“As you can see you are out of options,” the distorted voice came through the speakers. “Please come quietly.”

“Oh-ho, am I being _underestimated_?” He snickered out, holding a cloaked hand up to his mouth. The police following him came out of the heavy door then, weapons held aloft and serious looks of concentration on their faces. “Eh, are those guns r-r-real?!” He reached out tentatively to touch one but the man holding it jabbed at him with a snarl of confirmation and demanded that he cooperate. With an over exaggerated sigh he hung his head forward, slumping his shoulders as if in defeat, as if he were accepting his capture at the hands of L.

Two smoke bombs fell from each of his sleeves, covering the area in a thick layer of red clouds. Using the distraction and cover created he quickly executed a shunshin, placing himself on the roof of the neighboring building; too far to see exact facial expressions but near enough that he could hear their exclamations of anger at his successful escape as the cloud of red smoke cleared.

_'Thank you, Naruto.’_

 

“You talked with the Akatsuki?” Light said shocked – genuine shock that pulled the muscles on his face into something resembling a stunned excitement. But Obito was more interested in the hungry look that flashed like a beacon in brown eye.

“Yes. And I would like your opinion on the interaction.” L said calmly, clicking a button on the remote he held. Obito crowded around the television with everyone else, watching carefully to see if he gave anything away while he was conversing. He had received his clone’s memories but to double or triple check was in his best interest in such a precarious situation. He must say that it was strange to watch himself in that persona; flailing his limbs and virtually making a fool of himself. He shifted his attention from the screen to Light as his persona started the conversation with L, looking for any reactions. The most prominent was the flash of anger at the mention of Kira being evil – something he had purposefully worded after thinking back to Kira’s first live murder and how Lind L. Tailor had been killed after saying something similar. However, the stoic boy quickly schooled his features from further outbursts of emotion for the rest of the video. Still, that small flash was enough to tell the Uchiha that Kira will be going after the Akatsuki now – which was just what he needed, because the more brash Light acted the more likely he would slip up.

It was just as he planned. Mostly. He had to go and give a little more than he had originally outlined but it had led him to where he needed to be. He had been in worse and adjusted to more haring situations and back steps in his plans than this.

“He… isn’t what I expected.” Light concluded once they watch Tobi make his exit. “He acts like a child.”

“Yes, but it’s only an act.” L said, shoveling a bite of cake into his mouth.

“Huh?” Matsuda spoke up in confusion.

“The Akatsuki acts in a way that makes people underestimate him. It gives him the upper hand. And it most likely helps him deal with the guilt of killing.” L explained. Obito nearly choked at this assessment, mentally running through everything he said and did that could have _possibly_ given away so much. The only conclusion he came to was that he really needed to stop underestimating L. Because Ryuzaki figured him out in _one_ meeting when the entirety of Akatsuki, _an organization filled with S-ranked missing-nin_ , couldn’t.

Maybe he gave away bit more than he thought.

“I thought so too, but no one can be this good at acting,” Light spoke up making the embarrassment that Obito was feeling for his shinobi abilities only increase – because damn it they may be geniuses but so was Kakashi and _he_ didn’t figure it out.

“He may have multiple personality disorder,” the dark haired detective countered while lifting his cup of tea for a tentative sip.

“Isn’t that where the person doesn’t know what they’re doing when the other personality takes over?” Matsuda muttered the question, almost unsure if he was allowed to participate in the conversation at hand.

“Yes,” L confirmed, adding more sugar cubes to his tea.

“So you’re saying that he might not even know he’s the Akatsuki?” Is said incredulously, the chief’s eyes wide with disbelief as he asked.

“Yes.” The dark-haired detective lifted the tea to his lips again for another testing mouthful, “however, it’s only a possibility.”

“A possibility?” Yagami-san inquired further, attempting to dig as much information from the detective as he can.

Ryuzaki hummed, “There is a… one percent chance that this is true.”

After a short pause in the conversation Light spoke up once more, “Isn’t he wearing the same outfit as the Akatsuki in Naruto?”

“You couldn’t have picked a more discrete uniform?” Rin’s voice came though his left ear just as L started to speak.

“Yes, I also found that strange. And the mask mimics Toshi’s, don’t you agree Obito?”

The Uchiha forced down the frown that was trying to make its way onto his face, he had known there was a risk for such questioning when he first found the ‘Naruto’ books in this world. If he had known prior then he would have most likely held off on using his Tobi persona. But it was too late to go back now, and he was facing the consequences of his brash action; the only thing he can do was answer, “The personality is slightly different, but he does dress similar to Ushiba Okura.”

The two blinked at him in confusion for a moment and Obito quickly realized that they hadn’t gotten _that_ far in the series yet. Rubbing the back of his head with an embarrassed chuckle he offered a weak, “Heh, oops… spoilers, sorry.”

Slate-grey eyes blinked at him widely for a moment before turning back to the paused video displayed on the TV screen, “Tobi is also close to Toshi, I think it’s safe to conclude that he has read the series.”

“But what does this mean for the investigation? Is he our ally or not?” The chief asked with a stern tone, posture demanding.

“He is,” L stated, voice wholeheartedly assured of his answer.

“How can you be so sure?” Aizawa questioned.

“Because he considered my offer.”

By the end of the night Obito felt a strange mixture of offended and complimented. Offended by the fact someone figured out so swiftly it was not his true personality, yet complimented for the fact that his acting skills are on par enough to have them reach for a conclusion such as they have. Relief also took a place besides the contradictory feelings, because it meant that he may very well be safe from being accused of being the Akatsuki – he had, after all, never shown any signs of having multiple personality disorder.

 

 

 

The package they receive next came sooner than expected, a small parcel containing a diary entry and attached video describing said paper. Strangely enough the specified date of the diary was from a year prior – he saw little to no point in that detail. The events described raised no eyebrows either, until his eyes reach the thirtieth where the second Kira mentioned Shinigami and meeting a friend at the home game. But they must have known that, especially with their last video, such a message would be too strikingly obvious, and the police would cancel the event making the entire point of the package moot. Which drew him to the conclusion that the message must be hidden between the lines, underneath the underneath. He was good at these things, he was a shinobi after all, maybe not nearly as well versed as Kakashi but he still had skill in the area of codes and hidden messages. Yet, even after several times reading through the paper he only connected Shinigami with previous accounts of their language system.

“Obito,” L called out to the Uchiha whose hands were moving as if to fiddle with a kunai, “have you found anything?”

“The thirtieth,” he muttered, his hand pausing in its movements, “but it’s too obvious. There is one other time they mention meeting a friend, but that is to share notebooks.”

Before Ryuzaki could answer the door gave a soft click and Light walked into the room, the shadow tailing him as always. The college student was quickly filled in on their situation.

“Did he want the diary to be shown on TV?” Light asked as his father handed him the paper, his brown eyes immediately starting to scan it.

“Yeah.” The chief informed curtly, shifting his weight as he watched his son read through the newly received evidence.

“Please take a look at the thirtieth.” Ryuzaki spoke up from his awkwardly positioned perch on his chair – Obito _still_ hadn’t figured why the man felt the need to sit like that. There was a small pause in which to give proper time to the man reading the paper. A time that Obito took to study every minute reaction Light had to each date; the way his eyes linger on the page and sharpen on a section well above the thirtieth. He knew something, Obito could tell, knew the code that was being spoken and it only further confirmed to the Uchiha that Light _was_ Kira. Which meant that the portion his eyes lingered on had a clue that the investigators would miss; one that would tell them the true date and place the second Kira wished to meet up. Underneath the underneath – a basic skill all shinobi were drilled into.

“What do you think, Light-kun?” L asked, his eyes riveted on the brunette.

“Right now… I can only say that he’s an idiot.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Matsuda said too-cheerfully, too self-assured. “It’s obvious that he wants to meet Kira at the home game.”

“No he doesn’t,” Obito snorted out with an eye roll, feeling no guilt over destroying the poor newbie’s idea.

“What do you mean?” Matsuda questioned, voice less confident.

“They can’t be this stupid, right?” Obito said, “We have to be missing something.”

“Obito is right,” L confirmed, his eyes steady as they look at Obito for a moment longer than the rest of the room. “Clearly we are missing a key clue. Assuming that he isn’t as stupid as we think he is, we need to try to see if there is another message within this diary. If there is a code that only people who have the so-called Shinigami power can understand, I can’t decode it. But we should thoroughly check out the places listed.”

 

 

 

He returned home the next night to find Cho and Hisao camped out on his couch, take-out boxes spread liberally over his small coffee table, some spilling over to take up splotches of space on the floor. The brown-eyed woman practically vibrated in her seat as Obito stepped into the small apartment silently, her eyes having been trained on the door. Looking between the two Obito felt a spiral of dread flutter down his spine at the clear intervention about to occur; one that made him give a sheepish smile with excuses to leave tripping over themselves on the tip of his tongue. Excuses that were abruptly dissipated as Cho rose to stand with an all-too-sweet smile and sugary voice.

“Obito, perfect timing.” She was short without her heals but no less threatening in her fierce strides, “We just finished setting the table.”

He glanced back towards the filled wooden surface and saw nothing but half opened bags and ripped up napkins amongst the boxes of food that no longer have any heat waves rising from them. There is a warning in her words, telling him not to run, and really he shouldn’t have been thinking of it at all with the way Rin’s hands are resting on his shoulders as if to push him forward. Shouldn’t have considered the idea of turning tail when he had, not too long before, lamented his instinct to run from those troubles he faced. So he swallowed his nerves and gives a more welcoming, warm smile to his surrogate sister – one of two people that have done nothing but help him since he entered this reality. Two people that, like a certain blonde haired Uzumaki, saw the good in a monster like him and were willing to offer friendship, family.

But he wasn’t sure they would still offer that if they were to learn of his true origins, his true background, what horrors and sins he had committed before Naruto managed to save him and make him accept himself as Uchiha Obito once more. He didn’t think he could take their rejection, not when they have started to make up his new world, the one he is building up out of those precious to him – the one he wanted nothing more than to protect and keep close.

But… would it not be damningly rude to disregard their own part in the bigger picture, the one containing a flourishing criminal persona taking on a god-wanna-be that can kill with a face? Anything could happen, so would it not be best for him to give them the information needed to be prepared? Or would protecting them best to be done by keeping this truth so that they may be protected from a reality that would see them dead? Would it not be better to let only himself face this insurmountable burden, especially when put into perspective as being of his own making and his own mistaken choices. The situation occurring now was one of his own making; appearing in this world, the danger they were facing. So it would make sense for the responsibility of clearing it up, fixing it, to fall on him.

He needed an answer for them though; needed a means to explain his ability to bring back people from the dead. But that did not mean he had to tell the whole truth. Just… enough of it.

Cho’s reaching arm replaced Rin’s hands on his shoulders with a half hug, one that guided him purposefully onto the couch between his two friends.

“Now,” Cho started, pleasantries gone from her voice, “you’re probably wondering why we’re gathered here.”

“Cho.” Hisao cut in with a long-suffering sigh.

“What?” She pouted back, “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“It doesn’t mean you should.”

“Oh, now you’re just being mean, old man!” She huffed, eyes averting from him back to Obito, narrowing as she did so. “We’re here because you need to explain.”

“Heh,” he lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head, “it’s a bit hard to believe…”

Cho snorted, her eyes rolling, “Like a man killing with just a face and name isn’t unbelievable enough?”

Obito fidgeted in his seated position. _Fidgeted_ of all things. He felt like he was under the scrutinizing gaze of Minato-sensei and Kushina again when he pulled off a prank, or hurt himself training too hard unsupervised.

“It has something to do with that eye of yours, doesn’t it my boy?” Hisao spoke up, gaze old but shrewd with wisdom gained from years spent in the criminal underworld.

“Eye?” Cho’s lips pulled down on one side.

“When he first came in his left eye looked like he was wearing those stupid contacts,” Hisao started to explain, ignoring Cho’s _‘there not stupid, your just old’,_ “told him to take it out and he came back wearing a wrap to cover it. Didn’t think much on it at the time.”

“Oh.” Cho hummed, turning back to Obito expectantly, “Well…” when he only blinked at her she huffed and pointed a painted fingernail at his left eye, “let’s see it.”

He rolled his eyes so hard that it hurt, but nonetheless complied with her demands. Because he had left them in the dark regarding so much of who he was then and now, that they deserved this at the very least. He had never been more thankful that these two have no interest in 'Naruto', because if they did then they would no doubt recognize the light purple eye with black rings expanding from his pupil. But they didn't. Didn't understand the significance and extreme impossibility of him even having the orb, which was more than okay in his opinion.

"It's purple," are the first words from Cho's mouth, and Obito raised an eyebrow for how obvious the statement was. Regardless, Cho was reacting surprisingly well, "So how's it work? Is it like Kira?"

This... Wasn't what he was expecting, and honestly an entire lesson on chakra and how it worked would lead to too many questions, too many loose ends he wouldn't be able to explain with minimal information.

"It's..." he scratched his cheek as he thought of a way he could describe it, "more like thinking of wanting the person to be alive again, I guess." He frowned when the sentence leavefts his mouth because that wasn't exactly it; from what he understood you didn't have to know the person or have seen them before. Just work within a time frame and area. Even having a number of individuals in mind wasn't necessarily needed, though it was better, it was only to restrain from demanding too much chakra.

They accepted the explanation.

"So you can bring back anyone?" Cho questioned, eyes lighting up with a hopefulness.

"Eh, no," he shook his head, feeling a pang of guilt at having to deny her. He could tell her of the second's jutsu to bring back and control the dead but that technique required sacrifices and Obito was really trying to refrain from such measures. "There's a time limit."

"Oh," she breathed out, voice holding a whisper of disappointment, "well that makes sense, I guess, don't want decomposed bodies walking around."

"What's the price?" Hisao spoke up, and Obito wasn't surprised in the least by the question, because surely there must be a cost to bringing back the dead.

"There isn't one," he sighed, covering his eye once more and moving to the kitchen. "Tea?" Cho gave an nod of approval and Obito had never known Hisao to turn down his favorite drink, so the white-haired man placed three cups onto a tray and set water to boil.

"Everything has a price." Obito nearly groaned; he really, _really_ wanted to avoid explaining chakra.

"This doesn't," he said, "it's like Kira's power in that way. But there's a time limit and only so many people I can bring back." Hisao didn't believe him he could tell, but the old man wasn't about to push; he had lived long enough and held enough experience to know that some things were best kept secret. And for that Obito was grateful.

The rest of the night was a marathon of bad kung-fu movies that Cho insisted they needed to watch and cheap take-out. But it made him forget all his worries for a while; it made him feel at home.

 


	7. Signal on the Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Ello lovely readers!
> 
> Sooo this is up fairly early (it took me, what, a month to update last time?), and this probably isn’t going to happen again any time soon because I need to start studying for my Chinese placement exam which I have been… I wouldn’t say avoiding… more like strategically finding more pressing things to do… and yeah.
> 
> Anyway, here’s the next chapter! Hope you enjoy and please review!

 

Light has been watching him more closely now, but the man won’t dare to approach him directly concerning any thoughts circulating his mind – if he were to it would give too much away on both their ends. That doesn’t mean he isn’t doing his research, most likely inquiring about where to find Akatsuki or how to get in contact with the allusive mercenary. In fact, the other day he had received word that in the criminal underworld there was an increase in questions about him, but only at the lowest level. The level holding the runners and drug dealers, the one where no one knows anything but rumors and possibilities, where you’re more likely to hear about a guy who knows another guy than any solid leads. It’s the level that people first run into when trying to establish a contact or connection; the one Kira would most likely go to first.

Obito is concerned, but… less than he should be. Whether it’s because he knows that Hisao and Cho aren’t using their real names, wouldn’t dare to with a killer like Kira on the loose – he also knows that Hisao is using a highly considered runner to retrieve any letters or requests for him. The old man has lived in the world long enough to know how a lack of caution pays back with interest. Or maybe it’s all a slight arrogance left over from when he thought himself strong enough to take over the world – because this reality doesn’t know of chakra, so surely they won’t be capable of standing up against a shinobi.

Whatever the reason he isn’t overwhelmingly concerned.

But maybe he should be; it’s a race to see who can gather the most damning evidence first, after all.

A race against time, really.

With way too many old ladies and black cats along the way for Obito’s liking.

"Obi-chan, you like that series Naruto right?!" Cho announces in a rush as she bursts into the back room of Hisao's shop breaking him from his thoughts. He looks at her shark-smile that has a mischievous edge to it and feels a sharp spike of apprehension crawl down his spine. Tentatively, almost hesitantly, he gives a small nod. "You have to look at this," she places a laptop on of the pile of letters he was absent-mindedly sifting through. "They call it fanfiction."

"Fan...fiction?" He repeats slowly, a small frown on his lips as he shifts his eye from her to the computer screen.

"Yeah, fans write stories about the characters in different situations," she explains simply, walking away to grab her cup of tea that she had apparently left in the other room during her mad rush to show the Uchiha her discovery.

Obito looks through the list of works filling the screen, a short description next to each.

"Cho!" He calls to her, squinting at the summary of the story before him. The description mentions him and Kakashi but the word following it is one he has never heard before.

"Yeah?" The woman asks, her heals clicking into the room again.

"What's yaoi?" Even as he says the question he clicks the link to the story described. His eyes scanning over the words, growing wider and wider with each sentence. Cho leans in to read over his shoulder just as he chokes on air at the scene the author is writing.

"Oh," she says behind him, her voice breathy and full of wonder. “I see why my friend reads this.”

Slamming the laptop shut he shoves the machine into the woman's hands, his head hitting the table with a thump as he groans, "I'm never going to unsee that!"

“No, wait, Obito! I wanted to read the rest!” Rin exclaims, much to his horror, lightly shoving his shoulder as his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I thought you were bisexual?” Cho asks him, eyebrow raised.

Obito sputters, arms flailing around trying to articulate just _why_ he is so immensely discomfited by the story, “This is different!”

“Sure,” she says holding hand over her mouth to poorly cover up laughter. “Whatever you say, Obi-chan.”

“It is! Oh, Kami I can’t believe I read that!”

Hisao enters minutes later to Cho curled over grabbing her stomach in pain from laughter, tears flowing from her eyes as Obito repeatedly hits his head against the surface of their wooden table trying to induce selective amnesia.

It doesn’t work much to his lament.

Nothing happens within the investigation for a while, criminals continue to meet their ends but each location they explore that was described in the diary reveals nothing. The second Kira all but silent since the evidence was sent in. Obito is frustrated, but he has learned patience, knows the virtue intimately after how many years he waited and planned when executing the moon-eye plan. Still. The silence is daunting and makes him restless, it makes his stomach twist as if something _big_ is going to happen. Even sending out an Akatsuki clone to some of the supposed meeting places leads to revealing nothing.

It becomes boring, sitting watching the screens before him as people amble about doing innocuous things such as shopping or eating. So boring and uneventful, in fact, that he ends up sending a clone in to take his place and visits Hisao’s shop more and more often, taking jobs that seem to endlessly pile in. He screens them more thoroughly now, though, after all Kira is out looking for him and any number of the request letters could be a trap.

It is during one of these visits that Cho arrives with a backpack and small suitcase in tow, a neutral expression held on her normally animated face. She smiles at him as she enters, but it doesn’t reach her eyes and the sharp edge to it is all but gone.

“Hey, Obi-chan,” she greets, no fanfare included, just a warm greeting with a tired edge.

He blinks at her, confusion rushing into his expression as he eyes her baggage, “You’re leaving?”

“No, nothing like that,” she rushes to say, shaking her head and letting out a snort, “I couldn’t leave this place if I tried. I’ll just be out of town for a bit. I came by to tell you and Hisao before I left. But it looks like the old man’s out.”

“Oh,” he says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head in relief, “yeah, he left to deliver some papers.”

“Mayumi-baa-chan, again?”

 He gives a nod to confirm her inquiry, ignoring her muttered _‘bet that’s not the_ only _thing he’s delivering for her’_ to protect his sanity, instead asking a question of his own, “Where are you going?”

“I’m taking a train up to Sapporo,” she offers a lopsided, wet smile, “visiting family.”

The Uchiha feels his lip twitch up, the wane expression not nearly enough to show all he wishes to say but it will have to do. “Your brother?”

“Yeah,” she chuckles mirthlessly, “haven’t had time to visit otouto in nearly a year. I have a lot to tell him,” she continues wistfully, “so that knucklehead better listen.”

“With how loud you are he won’t be able to ignore you.” He tells her teasingly.

She glares light-heartedly, but it loses itself amongst the sighed breathe she releases, “You better take care of yourself while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“I mean it,” and he knows she does, because despite the front she puts up she truly cares for them, and has a penchant for worrying herself sick. “And take care of the old man, too. Kami knows Hisao needs all the help he can get.”

“I will, now go, you don’t want to miss your train,” he exclaims as he starts herding her out the door.

“Promise me,” she demands, standing tall in front of the exit, eyes sharp.

“I promise.” And though he huffs it out they both understand the significance of his statement, and Obito feels the weight of it the second the words leave his mouth – because they know he will doing everything to keep it.

“The promise of a lifetime,” she smirks, eyes alight.

“Hey!” He exclaims in mock anger, “Don’t go using a ‘Naruto’ line on me, you don’t even read the series!”

“Oh, shut up you big dork,” she snorts. “You’ve talked about it enough that even the old man knows a few lines.” Her eyes soften then, “See you later, Obi-chan.”

She leaves then, in a whirl of red fabric and the sound heals clicking with each step. He watches her go, a frown taking over his features, small but there. He would have offered to join her, and he knows Hisao would have as well, but they know that in this life there are some things that need to be done alone.

Visiting the resting place of a beloved younger brother is one of them.

They go to every event mentioning a location in the journal, and on those days where none is mentioned L decreed that they don’t need to have the whole task force there – especially with how little has happened. And so they start taking shifts, meaning the Uchiha no longer needs to expend chakra to send a clone to the hotel each day.

It also means he doesn’t have much of an excuse _to_ send a clone instead of appearing himself. Which is how he finds himself sitting in a chair next to the infamous detective reviewing old evidence and watching videos from previous events. By the second hour, when nothing new of note is found – and really doesn’t L know that going over evidence this much will only lead to second guessing? – he is more than done with the entire day.

He absently eats a chocolate covered strawberry as his eyes run over lines on a paper he isn’t actually reading – he could recite the entire file if asked by this point after all. It’s with this boredom that he notes how sweets are really the only thing to eat within the hotel room, and if he recalls correctly he hasn’t once seen Ryuzaki make a different dietary choice. He purses his lips as he scans the confections brought out by Watari; cakes and sugar candies, chocolate covered fruits, and stacks of sugar cubs to put into tea.

Most shinobi are, aside from select clans – the Akamichi for example, their jutsu intrinsically relying on the strange eating habits they covet – on a diet when on active duty or immediately before a high-ranking mission. Any scents can give your position away to an enemy after all. Besides, keeping in shape is a must for shinobi who want to have the stamina to last in a fight against strong opponents. Though such a feat is easily within their grasp as most workouts and stretches that are performed take the form of training exercises that not only keep their bodies in shape but their instincts and sense sharp.

Obito bites his lip, contemplating what to do, because since when did he care? Since when did the detective’s health and well-being start to matter? When had L moved from tentative comrade to friend that needs protecting?  Yet, no matter how he questions the sentiment the dark-haired man has wormed his way into Obito’s small list of precious people. Managed to gain passport for his little world barely populated by any walking this dimension. All the same, in the end, it’s Rin that really pushes him to take action, her own small hand trying to pry the fork out of the detective’s grasp, her slim ghostly pale fingers slipping through intangibly each time. Rolling his eyes as the detective starts to pick up another mouthful the Uchiha reaches out and takes the plate into his hands. L gazes up at him with a confused and offended look but Obito has been on the receiving end of worse.

“You should really eat something healthier,” he points out, Rin cheering encouragements in the background with enthusiastic fist bumps. “All this sugar can’t be good for you.”

“I assure you, Obito, that my food choices are perfectly healthy.”

“You’re eating cake for breakfast.”

“I see no problems with this.”

“You need fruit,” Obito says, using more will power than he thinks should be necessary to suppress a laughing smile. L gives him a flat look, pointing purposefully at the strawberries ornamentally decorating the slice. The Uchiha let his eyes wander to the ceiling and back in exasperation, “And vegetables.”

“That is completely unnecessary,” L counters, arm reaching out to take the cake slice back, to which Obito simply holds it out of reach. Hindsight is an amazing thing, and looking back now he can’t really say what cognitive function short circuited enough to let him think such actions were a good idea. But then again he feels the defensive need not to overlook the fact he wasn’t really expecting the chair to overbalance with how far L was leaning. An overbalance that sends the detective careening forward and onto the Uchiha’s own chair which, in turn, tips like they are two precariously placed dominos and sends them both tumbling to the floor – cake and all. Obito instinctively twists them as they fall so that L will end up on top, allotting the Uchiha the brunt of the harm from such a sudden drop and abrupt stop on the hard surface. They lay there in a daze for a second as what happened catches up within their brains.

“I blame you,” Obito groans out forcing down the blush that rises on his cheeks at their position.

“If you hadn’t taken my cake this wouldn’t have happened,” L says petulantly, pulling himself off the Uchiha. At which point the detective takes note of the sugary confection spewed over his hair and on Obito’s face, and really Obito can’t describe the look the man gives him as anything other than condemning. As if Obito had told him that the world ran out of sugar. Truly, the detective is worse than an Uzumaki about their ramen.

“At least the plate didn’t break,” he hears Rin claim in a supportive tone, but her eyes are shining with something Obito would probably better understand if he wasn’t so focused on stopping the rising bubble of laughter in his throat. He doesn’t, succeed that is, and the jubilant sound bursts into the room just as a piece of thick icing falls from a lock of the detective’s hair and hits the floor with a splat. L’s scandalized expression only makes him grip his stomach as the muscles ache from the exertion.

When Obito finally calms down from his laughing fit, and Watari has offered them towels with which to clean up, they continue to watch the videos throughout the day. And by the time the sun sets they’ve reviewed them all and then some – a tiring process but one that needs to be done.

“Are you not going home, Obito?” L speaks up when the clock strikes ten. He shakes his head, remaining in his seat as the next video starts.

“Two sets of eyes are better than one,” he offers as explanation with a smile, “or, well, one and a half.” A hand twitches to go rub the back of his neck but he resists as grey-slated orbs study him.

“Isn’t your sister waiting for you?”

“My… sister?” Obito asks in confusion, minding running through who L could possibly be talking about before abruptly falling upon Cho; he’d forgotten that he had called her nee-san after the Sakura TV incident. “You mean Cho?” When L gives a nod the Uchiha can’t help but laugh a little, “She isn’t my sister, just… a really close friend.”

L blinks at him, clearly trying to comprehend the idea of having someone so close as to call them by a familial term.

“And she’s used to my odd hours,” which is true, because as the Akatsuki he would take jobs at all times of the night in order to meet the demands of his commissioners. Not to mention the strange hours that she works. “Besides, she’s visiting family.”

They don’t talk too much after that, only conversing when they possibly notice someone acting strangely in the recording. It’s when L suggests that they re-watch the videos from the meeting with Akatsuki that Obito suspects the detective has spent the entire time with half his mind elsewhere. And really, he’s seen the images displayed on the screen at least four times – once in person, once from a clone’s memories, and twice now from a recording. He doubts that L hasn’t seen them even more.

 “Why did you join the investigation?” The detective breaks the subtle quiet permitting the room.

“I was transferred,” Obito decides upon, allowing the seconds of extra time to help him decide upon the answer to the question he knew would come next.

“Yes, but why did you stay?”

_‘To repent.’_

_‘To protect Cho and Hisao.’_

_‘Because Kira reminds me of myself.’_

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Obito settles on with a distant look and lost frown adorning his expression, a hand reaching up to rub absently at his covered orb. Settles. Because how can he possibly reveal the other three that are grasping at truths he can’t afford to give away.

Truth: he wants to repent – _craves_ it – for all he has done in his past reality. All the killing, life-ruining, village-leveling destruction he wrote on the elemental nations.

Truth: he’s desperate to protect Cho and Hisao, his two most precious people in this world because he abandoned all the rest. Left Kakashi, killed Minato-sensei, had forsaken Rin for a fake.

Truth: he is reminded starkly of himself when faced with the ambitions of Kira – fighting for a world of peace gained through a foundation of fear; the illusion of happiness. A world of nothing but false dreams ruled by a goddess sucking the life from his true home.

He can tell that L doesn’t believe him – not fully at least – doesn’t trust him but he nods nonetheless to the offered answer as if it was the expected one he thought would come after his question. And Obito had little doubt that the world-famous genius detective hadn’t thought of a hundred possible responses with probabilities accompanying each before he even asked. It reminds him distinctly of a Nara – troublesome geniuses that they are.

“You feel guilty over your friend’s death,” is the conclusion Ryuzaki comes to a moment later. Which… is not wholly untrue; he is at fault for Kakashi’s pain – dying and not returning when he actually survived; making the Hatake promise a promise that is impossible to keep in times of war, where shinobi are falling with every step. Killing hundreds of leaf civilians and shinobi – including the closest thing they both had to family – with the Kyuubi attack.

All of that for a pipe dream.

So how could he not be weighed with guilt? How could he not look into his reflected eyes and see someone chained by past mistakes with only a broken kunai to help him escape?

"What's with all the questions?" he snorts out in lieu of answering because sometimes a non-answer is answer enough. Because some things are better left unsaid.

There is a pause before L finally reveals with a slow, almost hesitant voice, "Light-kun told me he does not trust you and is... suspicious of your connections to the Akatsuki."

"My connections... to the Akatsuki..." Obito repeats slowly, trying to fully digest the words.

"Yes. With his deduction I have concluded there is a two percent chance that you are the Akatsuki himself and a three percent chance you are affiliated with him." L explains, grey orbs boring into Obito.

To think that Light, a suspect of mass murder, could be believed about accusations made towards the Uchiha creates an abnormally betrayed clench in his chest. He knows the suspicion is correct to be affiliated with him, but it's the source of these conclusions that makes a sour taste string around him. However, he also knows that even with the suspicion Light was able to manipulate into L’s opinions there is a distinct lack of hard evidence to build any dependable case for his claims.

"I... What?" He manages to choke out, letting the betrayal act as bewilderment and confusion.

“It is not just Light-kun’s opinion that brought me to this conclusion. I had my own suspicions, Light bringing his to me only cemented them.” L explains slowly, “It started with your late entry to the investigation, and though your identification is real, few people in the station you transferred from know you.” Obito nearly chokes, because _seriously,_ “Then for the length of time you were missing from the task force the Akatsuki’s activities increased significantly.”

And okay, Obito can give him that one because honestly he wasn’t really thinking clearly at that time with how emotionally frayed he was. By the time he managed to calm down the damage was already done and there wasn’t much he could do.

“I also found it suspicious that the appearance of the Akatsuki at the Sakura TV broadcasting station and you leaving the hotel are aligned. There is also no video of you at the event.”

“I was pushing the camera crews away,” he protests, though he knows it’s weak at best and with the subtly building stack of conjectures against him there is little he can do to dissuade the beliefs until evidence to the contrary is found. “And what about the meeting with Akatsuki,” he strikes, this argument stronger, “I was here the entire time.”

“There is a possibility that a double was used.”

He gapes.

It’s the only response he has at this point; because, yes, using a double is a possibility and it was technically what he had done but seriously. _Seriously._

“Please, Obito, do not take offense. It’s not that I don’t trust you,” L starts, and Obito forces himself not to snort at that. “I just have a hard time trusting anyone, and with the arrangements Watari and I have made we will find out if you are the Akatsuki soon enough.”

He’s almost too scared to ask. _Almost._ “Arrangements?”

“Yes. We will be handcuffed together for the foreseeable future.”

“…What?”

The entire situation wouldn’t be nearly as awkward if it weren’t for the fact that the next day was one with an event written in the diary, meaning that _all_ the investigators were to show up. Honestly, if he wasn’t chained to the detective he would take more pleasure in their reactions.

“I didn’t know you were into that sort’a thing,” Aizawa leers at them, his eyes alight with humor and mischief.

“I will do almost anything for the good of the investigation,” L answers, clearly not reading the correct message that the bush-haired man was trying to get across and causing Obito to groan, suppressing a blush at the implications.

“I don’t think that’s-,“ Ukita starts but lets out a yelp when Aizawa elbows him in the side.

“What is going on Ryuzaki, why are you and Obito-san chained together?” Yagami-san asks, stepping in front of the other two investigators and his son.

“I suspect Obito to be the Akatsuki,” is said flatly.

“What?” Comes as the collective response, and Obito feels a bit of warmth at how trusting everyone is of him – misplaced in this case but trust nonetheless. It is Light’s smug expression and eyes alight with victory that makes him want to scowl, makes him want to dip into his shinobi skills so bad that he feels like he is vibrating with the effort to hold back.

Still, despite the looks and aggravation at Light’s smug smile he isn’t entirely worried about being chained to L, he can switch out with a clone any time, set a genjutsu, or use any of the litany of other ways in which he could escape unnoticed – he’s an s-ranked shinobi after all. And he really needs to stop thinking on that because that means little in this world of detectives and killers that don’t need to touch their victim – such blatant confidence might lead to a mistake.

At the very worst of times this imprisoning situation is an embarrassment; the chain is only _so_ long and hygiene is something that he likes to keep up with. But still, this confinement is more of a nuisance than anything else; being circumscribed to the hotel room is boring, but he has been stuck in the Kanto region since he arrived in this world, and for a shinobi so used to traveling across the elemental nations it felt like a jail cell at first. The hotel room is just another set of bars keeping him in place that in time he will become accustomed to without the itching urge to escape – hopefully the whole ordeal will be over before that adjustment is made.

What truly sets him on edge is that _thing_ and how often it has been around due to Light’s increased activity within the investigation, that so-called-Shinigami hovering in the background of his senses. Which… okay, Obito will admit is nerve-wracking because if it’s _actually_ a Shinigami then he might be in trouble, and with how it’s most likely made a contract with this human… Well he’ll think about that later, besides he has the rinnegan on his side and that has to count for something, right?

It felt like months would go by between each event, and by the time the first of only two mentioning a meeting of friends came around the entire task force was on the brink of the edge, hanging over it by a thread in the anticipating hope that something would come to light out of the woodwork.

However, Obito was worse off, because despite Akatsuki still taking jobs – or more accurately his clones running around taking on criminals like a television drama vigilante – L _still_ hasn’t seen fit to release him. And no matter how well they were able to get along while working together on the case their relationship quickly degraded over the course of time the Uchiha spent chained to the detective, ending in a twisted representation of what he and Bakakashi used to call teamwork in his genin days.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“ _Yes._ ”

“ _No._ ”

“I swear to Kami it’s just a-“

“I am not-“

“Yes, you-“

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Obito groans, because they’ve fallen _again_ to the level of children in the process of him attempting to coax the detective to eat a salad. _A salad_ for Sage’s sake. And a sweet one at that, with strawberries and other fruits that outnumber the amount of greens.

How has he fallen so low?

Rin.

He blames Rin. Her and her insistent pestering that it’s _Obito’s_ job to ensure the dark-haired man eats healthy. Why? He has no clue and she is not forthcoming with her own reasoning in the least. But he suspects it her medic-nin instincts kicking in and with her intangibility she can’t actually act on those so it clearly becomes Obito’s job to. Which has led to plenty of arguments between him and the detective – some he loses, and others he doesn’t. Although in those cases he usually resorts to bribery and holding all sugary sweets hostage – childish, yes, but also extremely effective.

The other task force members around them are snickering at the scene the two make as they prepare for sending Light and Newbie out to Aoyama, and Obito _really_ wants nothing more than to use his Kamui and disappear.

He’s to stay behind, not unexpected, as his current circumstances won’t even allow him to leave the damnable hotel room, but annoying. Logically he knows he probably wouldn’t have been sent along with Matsuda and Light anyway due to his scarring and white hair that would draw too much attention. And he knows the restlessness of the past few weeks is catching up to him and causing the annoyance… but still. So he sends a clone, wearing a brown wig and contact lenses to hide the sharingan and rinnegan from any cameras that he may have no choice but to be caught on – because L, the stupid genius, added so many of those obnoxious contraptions that the Uchiha was hard pressed to find any blind spots when planning out his clone’s excursion. It’s also the first time he’s sending out a clone with both eyes uncovered. Something he is still trying to discover what took him so long to think of, because really he should have thought to expose the rinnegan the second he heard the word Shinigami.

Better late than never, right?

The clone, of course has a heavy forget-me, look-away, don’t-notice genjutsu running through a seal painted on his covered shoulder to draw as little attention as possible. It’s one of the only seals he properly knows outside the rudimentary level, but it is also one of the strongest misdirection seals created that is small enough to fit onto a limited area. It worked wonders when he needed to sneak into the Mizukage’s office to put the man under a genjutsu. Repeatedly.

The process of watching the video in real time is tedious and Obito knows that even with eleven eyes watching the screens – not including Watari, who Obito is pretty sure left to buy more cake – it is easy for them to miss something, for a little hint to be too fleeting to catch right away. He catches bare glimpses of his clone, watching it walk through Aoyama following Light and his group. For all the cameras set up Obito is proud to say that his clone does a commendable job avoiding them, and when he is captured it is the back of his head only.

“Do you really think that Kira and second Kira could be there?” Ukita finally speaks up, breaking the silence that clung heavily to the nervous tension in the room.

“We can’t rule out the possibility,” L says.

“And if they’re not?” Aizawa asks.

“Then we keep searching.” Yagami-san cuts in, voice broking no room for argument.

And that’s the truth of it, they just need to keep digging and digging and digging till finally Kira slips up and they can get the definitive evidence that they need. Preferably before any of them die for good.

The disappointment that they feel when Matsuda and Light leave Aoyama with nothing to show for it is… greatly felt among the investigators. The videos they watched the entire time showing them no strange behavior or leading clues. It’s disappointing, but they are used to the feeling by now.

Just as the Light and Matsuda finish their reports on what they saw walking the streets of Aoyama the Uchiha feels his clone pop from existence and a rush of memories bombard his mind.

The blood in his veins goes cold with what information it brings.

 


	8. A Blue Sky and A Black Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘ello lovely readers!
> 
> So studying is going as well as it can… Thank you all so so so much for your support (you guys are the best) and I hope to get the next chapter out before I start my first semester because after that updates will be… exceptionally slow.
> 
> I can tell you that I have the entire fic outlined, and that I have an estimated number of chapters, so there is an end in sight and I have absolutely no plans to ever abandon this story. I will finish no matter what!
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter, hope you enjoy! And please review!

 

Sometimes he thinks that the fates are just out to get him with how horrible his luck has been in life. Between falling for a girl that was so deeply in love with another, being born to a family that shunned his very existence, and falling prey to Madara after his supposed demise he can’t say much of anything positive about his circumstances. And now here the fates are presenting themselves as even more horrible apparitions than before, because Obito has all but shouted to the heavens his opposition against not just one but two _Shinigami._

Obito may have been delusional in wanting a false reality and lost his mind for a period of time, but he isn’t insane enough to not comprehend the gravity of the situation at hand.

Because, damn it, what else could those creatures be but the fabled Gods of Death. With their spindling bone structures that grotesquely proportion into a monstrous visage of deathly tones. With their beady eyes the colour of blood and too-wide mouths that pull over sharply pointed teeth like hunting predators trapping their kill.

He really wished that the Kiras had been joking, or using some strange form of code when mentioning Shinigami – he’s never been more aggrieved at being wrong. Which means that the mention of ‘eyes’ is most likely more based in reality than he had hoped as well. Perhaps not a doujutsu as he knows them, but something similar.

What’s more is that he can only see the creatures in their full technicolor glory when he has his rinnegan bared, in a sense of the term at least, as they still held a vaguely fuzzy quality about them. Which makes him wonder how Light and the second Kira – who he discovered to be a girl sitting in a cafe – could see them. Light has no chakra network, and the second Kira even mentioned that Light lacked ‘the eyes’ so that puts any form of doujutsu out of the question. Meaning it has to be something else. But what?

What could possibly allow a human to see a death God?

And what is his next move?

Because facing down Shinigami changes things. And not to mention he has no solid proof to present to the investigators and L for his accusation that Light is actually Kira. He would first need to allow them to see the Shinigami, and to do that he must figure out how Light and the second Kira can see them. Which leads him back to where he started; what’s his next move?

He suppresses a groan, because if this was run by ninja it would have ended already… granted if it was run by shinobi then the instant the eyes were mentioned a slew of doujutsu bearing jounin would have been deployed. Though he isn’t sure the byakugan would be able to see much more than the shadowed creature, much like the sharingan, and would face the problem of figuring out what such a creature actually is. Really, with two legendary doujutsu he may very well be the best ninja to deal with the situation. Aside from Sasuke or Naruto, that is, because Sasuke has the same eyes as him and Naruto… is, well, _Naruto_.

A boy promising peace to the world through his own insurmountable will to never give up and drag those un-savable from the crashing waves of insanity drowning their minds. A boy with a light in him outshining the stars – stars that left the sky to blackness as Kaguya rose again. Because the fates look fondly upon fools with a ninja-way that grants the inability to go back on their word.

Obito should know.

He was on the receiving end of that nindo, after all.

But, truly, how will thinking on that get him any closer to answering his questions. His rash actions in the past have done nothing but hinder him. Besides, planning and waiting has always proven to be the best way for him to deal with goals – just look at the moon-eye plan; he had nearly completed it, and had he factored in more readily the blonde Child of Prophecy, then perhaps he would have. This factor leaves his only option at the moment to use his patience to his advantage in this game of minds. Try to find evidence.

Try to force Light to slip up.

Because he may be good at waiting but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t manipulated things along the way during previous excursions. And when has he ever been able to resist getting someone who feels high and mighty – invincible – to trip up?

So, really, all this has brought him to is sticking to his original plan, only now he has to be more wary when using the Akatsuki to draw either of the Kiras out.

He resists sighing, holding the building need back as he thinks on how slow progress has been. They are still planning on going to events, setting up extra cameras, reviewing videos. Tedious work leading to nothing that could possibly help the investigators move in the right direction because they _can’t see_ what is right in front of them. Don’t physically have the capacity to witness a Shinigami hovering over Light and his friends, nor the purple monstrosity that stood beside an innocuous girl. So Obito has no proof to offer until Light slips up or he can figure out how to let the task force see the creatures.

But it gives him time to think.

Which is how a clone has now taken up the duty of stalki- _observing_ Light and his activities outside the investigation. Even though the Shinigami following the man senses the clone’s presence sooner or later and leads to the Uchiha having to expend more and more of the bunshin Obito has a feeling that it will give him what information he needs.

And with so many bunshin running around, he sends some out to take jobs as the Akatsuki increasing the criminal persona’s activities and lessoning the probability that he’s the masked vigilante. Despite this, L refuses to release him from the cuffs, though Obito notices the way his eyes hold less and less suspicion as time passes.

Light’s eyes never change, however, and ever since the Aoyama event three days earlier the stupid Shinigami of Light’s _won’t stop hovering_ over the Uchiha. Really, has it never heard of personal space?

At least, Obito concludes, it hasn’t deemed it necessary to touch him. That is, in no way, an experience he wishes to have to go through again. Ever. However, he notices that it seems to be paying more attention to Rin as well – the creature has always been able to see the girl, but it had never seemed to pay much attention to the ghostly figure of his teammate before. Rin, herself, has become more wary of it, though she only sees a shadow from what she has told him. When he had explained to her what he had seen she said she was thankful the creature is only a shadow to her.

With the Shinigami paying more attention to the two Obito concludes it must know _something_ and there is little chance that if it’s willing to make a contract of some sort with the human then it won’t be willing to tell Light whatever it has found. The entire situation makes the Uchiha’s stomach feel like it has a rasengan being shoved into it.

Obito holds in a groan because, in this moment, he wants nothing more than to feel the wind whipping around him, catching in his cloak and hair. Pulling against him as he runs through the trees or rocks or sands or mountains. He’s felt so confined lately, and this new worrying situation with the Shinigami has done nothing for his desire to get out of the hotel room. Really, he just wishes to be back in the elemental nations with its expansive landscape, wants to spend a night propped in a tree with nothing but the rustle of leaves and his own instincts to warn him of any threats.

Wants to smile and laugh with Bakakashi, and the rest of team seven. Wants to look up at the Hokage Monument and see his sensei’s face carve proudly into its side, see _Naruto’s_ face sculpted into the rock. Wants to eat barbeque and ramen at all the best places. Wants to send out a burst of chakra and feel the earth beneath his feet, the sky above his head and nature breathing with life around him. Wants to go back Konoha even with the consequences he faces from being the monster of the fourth war.

Wants to go _home._

“Obito,” he snaps back into reality with the call of his name, turning to look at his dark-haired companion, “are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” the smile that tugs his lips feels forced but it’s the best he can do with the queasy feeling in his gut. “Just lost in thought.”

L gives him a skeptical look but nods after a moment of letting grey-eyes scan his figure.

The next day comes with the rising of a sun that warms earth not buzzing with the nature energy Obito misses so much. And it drags into something just like any other investigation day, sitting around discussing everything they have reviewed.

Somehow.

And Obito will forever deny this in any way was his fault. He is a _professional_ thank you very much, no matter _how_ homesick he has felt lately.

_Somehow_ , they managed to get into a discussion on ‘Naruto’.

It was relatively lighthearted, Matsuda even joining in after revealing that he had taken to reading the series as well. Covering baser subjects, such as where they thought the plot was going, Obito pointedly remaining silent for the duration of that discussion, knowing all too well what happens in the end.

But they soon become ingrained in more selective scenes, some of which Obito remembers hearing about or spying on. Others he can recall nothing of as he wasn’t there, and hadn’t actually bothered to read more than the final battle written in the series – nothing else had really mattered to him, and why would it? He had already lived through those times, they were history to him.

“I like the battle between Pein and Naruto, it’s well done, especially when he meets his parents,” Matsuda exclaimed, before sheepishly rubbing his neck and continuing in a mumble, “I’m just finishing that chapter, actually.”

Light looks at the naïve, young detective and nods as if in agreement, “I also thought it was well written.”

“And when that girl stepped in to protect Naruto… what was her name again?” Matsuda looked up to the ceiling as if it would have an answer.

“I think it was Sakura,” Light says, letting his eyes scan over to Obito – the shine in them making the Uchiha warry, “right Obito-san?”

Obito can tell just by the look that the boy is testing him, though he has no idea why, doesn’t understand what proving that he doesn’t know _everything_ about the series will do. But he has to answer, has to provide something to this conversation, because from what he can gather this particular set of chapters is significant in the series. It was significant in his reality as well – Pein, the face of Akatsuki being beaten and then saving those lives he took; Nagato dying and leaving the rinnegan for Obito to take. But the Uchiha hadn’t been _there_ for the battle, hadn’t bothered to be – too busy with setting other steps in place to watch.

“It was Hinata,” L corrects the brown-haired man with a disappointed look hidden in his dark-grey eyes, before looking at the Uchiha, “I thought you would know that, Obito.”

But before he can open his mouth to answer – though he isn’t sure what he can say besides a mumbled excuse of forgetting – Light is speaking again.

“You know, Obito-san, you look a lot like Ushiba Okura.” Light says in a musing tone, his eyebrow raised, and his sentence gaining everyone’s attention that had otherwise left the conversation. The Uchiha isn’t sure what brought this on so suddenly; because surely Light hasn’t figured it out. For all that the man is genius, jumping to conclusions such as dimensional travel is far-fetched even in Obito’s world. Only summons were really known to have that ability, and even then it was only between two dimensions. Nonetheless there is a sinking feeling like boulders in his stomach.

Obito manages to push out a derisive snort, “Ah, yes, because I threw myself under rubble and gouged out my eye just to look like a manga character.”

The room is silent for a moment, Yagami-san giving his son a disappointed look, the man in question blinking at Obito as if he hadn’t expected that answer. One that is equal parts aggressive and defensive in nature. And maybe he hadn’t, but whatever the man’s goal was must have been reached because Light seemed to collect himself and open his mouth to say something more – most likely a insincere apology. Yet, before even a word could leave him, Watari walked into the room with a slightly hurried gate, all attention immediately shifting to land on his grandfatherly figure.

“Sakura TV has received another message from the second Kira,” the older man says solemnly, moving to play the tape. “It’s postmarked on the twenty-third.” With but a glance from Ryuzaki the older man starts to play the tape for the investigative task force to see.

“I have found Kira. To all of the people at the television station and the police, thank you very much.”

Obito forces his muscles to stiffen with the rest of the detectives, plastering a wide-eyed look onto his face to further the appearance of surprise. All the while he carefully observed Light, who seemed more shocked then the rest of the task force, a line of nerves and frustration creasing the skin along his mouth and stretching his eyes. But that doesn’t make sense; the second Kira had been there, and quiet obviously too, especially to someone with the ability to see Shinigami. So wouldn’t Light have noticed, or wouldn’t the Shinigami following him have told the man?

Perhaps the second Kira used some form of genjutsu to not be seen; Obito’s sharingan would have been able to see through the illusion, so it wouldn’t affect him. But if that were true he would have noticed his kekkai genkai dispelling it.

Shaking himself from his thoughts to sort through later the Uchiha looks over at L, who has a pensively contemplative look on his face, thumb pressed against his teeth as he stares at the screen.

“He found him? That’s not good.” Aizawa states voice breathless with false courage, bringing everyone out of their frozen state.

“Yes… It means that the second Kira and Kira have teamed up…” Yagami-san says with a wary sigh, the weight of the words hanging thickly in the tense atmosphere.

“No, it doesn’t,” Obito leans forward, the chain of the cuff clanking as he does so. “I don’t think Kira would have let the second Kira send this message if they did. It gives too much away.”

“Obito’s right. We’re not sure if they’ve teamed up.” L adds on, “The second Kira is only saying that he found him. He may not have contacted him yet. Since we’ve come to this point… the police will have to send a message to the second Kira…”

“Gives too much away? Send a message?” Matsuda asks, confused.

“Yes. It tells us that both went to Aoyama on the twenty-second and that the word ‘notebook’ means something to them.” L explains easily, “As for the message. The police will have to reach out to the second Kira and offer him a deal in exchange for Kira’s name.”

“Do you really think that will work?” Obito can’t keep himself from asking, because the second Kira clearly holds Kira in high regards. And the Uchiha doubts she will give up any information about their identity – _Light’s identity_ – no matter what is offered to them.

L looks at Obito with a slight tilt of his head, eyes bright even in the dimly lit room. “We won’t know unless we try.”

They display the message to the second Kira that same day.

It’s later, when Light has left to go home, and the remaining investigators are gathered to discuss what has been found and review a few tapes that his clone stationed at the Yagami’s home pops and a litany of memories pile into his head. He really doesn’t understand how Naruto can handle hundreds, even thousands all at once – probably something to do with the nine tails and his Uzumaki blood.

What he receives makes his heart speed up in his chest.

_A girl, blonde hair bouncing in the pigtails that tie the locks into the air, approaches the house with a casually rushed gate. A skip in each step. The Uchiha has never been more thankful that he switched to his black and white mask with two holes for eyes. With it he can clearly see that the same Shinigami from the café in Aoyama is following the darkly dressed girl. Meaning the second Kira is at least smart enough to wear a disguise._

_They stop directly in front of Light’s home, the girl pausing as if to think, before all but dancing up the walkway._

_The doorbell is wrung and the young woman asks politely to see Light. She is ushered into the house by a smirking sister and curious mother. Not long after Light and the girl reappear outside, their Shinigami in tow. Though Light seems incapable of actually seeing the pale purple and white-boned creature standing slightly hutched behind the petite blonde. And neither does she seem to notice the dark blue and black winged creature hovering casually over the brown-haired man._

_It’s not until the blonde hands over a black notebook that Light finally has a reaction to the other Shinigami present. The short interaction slotting so many puzzle pieces into place – the notebook is the key. They move into the house then, no doubt going into Light’s room to discuss the situation further._

_He uses chakra to enhance his hearing, allowing him to hear the conversation the two Kiras are having. He has maybe an hour before his presence is noted, less now that he is dispensing even more chakra and there are two Shinigami to worry about noticing his presence._

_“How did you find me?”_

_“Ah… I thought so. You didn’t do the eye deal, did you? When you have the Shinigami eyes,” Obito blinks, he’s never heard of such a doujustu, nor a deal that would give you anything resembling it, “you can see a person’s lifespan and age. But…” the girls seems to hesitate, maybe pausing to catch her breath – it’s hard for the Uchiha to tell without being able to see her face and body language. “You cannot see the lifespan of someone who has a Death Note.”_

_‘Death Note, so that’s what they are calling it.’ The Uchiha files the information away. Also making sure to record the fact this doujutsu allows the user to see the name of a person – explaining how Ukita was killed without even saying his name. So it’s not a matter of the second Kira not needing as much as the original Kira, but simply that she has a separate ability that she made some form of deal to receive._

_“Okay, I understand that, but… What would happen if you were caught by the police and Kira’s secret was discovered?”_

_“It’s alright… I wasn’t caught and if I continue to do as you say, I won’t be. Right? And I will see L’s name… I will become your eyes… So…”_

_“So?”_

_“Please make me your girlfriend!” The girl shouts, and Obito has to hold back an incredulous shout at this, just barely managing to stop himself from falling off of his perch._

_“That’s impossible. There were three times the usual number of surveillance cameras. Anyone in Aoyama would have been caught on camera. Including me. If we remain together after that… even being together here isn’t good. Try to understand.”_

_“This is a picture of me when I went to Aoyama.”_

_It became a back and forth battle between the two, Light shooting down the second Kira’s idea with excuse after excuse and the second Kira shooting back just as quickly with all that she has done to cover her tracks. It’s impressive to say the least, he hadn’t thought her to have thought so far ahead with how stupid some of her actions have been so far._

_It’s when she exclaims that, should he demand it, she would kill her friend for Light that Obito flinches in a full body reaction, barely suppressing the growl that rises in his throat. His chakra momentarily flaring with anger and indignation, because_ no one _should feel that way._

_“If you really don’t believe me you can hold on to my Death Note. You’re just-“ She cuts off suddenly, and there is a sharp intake of breathe before Obito sees the drawn curtains start to shift; they’ve noticed him. His disappears in a puff of smoke._

As the last of the memories run through his mind he mentally promises to go back and search the room for the notebooks at the next opportunity. And do it himself at that. Light seemed to actually _see_ the Shinigami following the girl when he touched the offered notebook, meaning that if Obito is to touch them then he too might see the creatures without use of his rinnegan. And it may prove to be a way for the investigators to see the Shinigami. His previous worry and trouble with having no proof slowly reducing.

“Are you planning to check all the videos of Aoyama on the twenty-second?” Aizawa calls out incredulously, breaking Obito from his thoughts.

“Yes. It is very likely that Kira and the second Kira made contact with each other there on that day. I want to check them all.”

“But you won’t get any sleep…” Matsuda trails off awkwardly.

“That is insignificant.”

“Insignificant?” Rin and Obito exclaim at the same time, both of their eyes narrowing at the detective.

“Yes, the sooner we watch the videos the sooner we find anything we missed.”

“Sleep is still important!” Obito stresses – and, okay, _maybe_ he hasn’t been the poster child for getting his eight hours but that sure as hell doesn’t mean he wants to face Rin’s wrath for not making L get his. Besides, most shinobi don’t sleep nearly as much as they’re supposed to.

Nightmares are unpleasantly persistent after all.

“Catching Kira is our priority.”

“But if you don’t sleep then your brain won’t be working at its full capacity,” the Uchiha counters, a similar point he makes when trying to push healthier foods onto the man.

“I assure you, Obito, my brain is functioning fine and will continue to do so.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“I am a hundred percent certain it will.”

“Now you’re just lying.”

“You have no way of proving that unless we stay up to watch all the videos.”

Obito holds back a sigh as he resigns himself to his last resort, “I’ll buy you cake for breakfast.”

The detective pauses at that, scanning the Uchiha with an intensity that would make lesser men squirm. “Fine, we’ll only watch three hours of videos tonight.”

“One hour. It’s already midnight.”

“Two.”

“One and a half.”

“Deal” L says with a definitive ending to his voice. Turning his head the detective turns grey eyes onto the chief. “Also, Yagami-san…”

“Yes?”

“I would like Mogi-san to keep watch over Light’s activities.”

“Light’s activities?”

“In the event that Light is Kira, the second Kira might try to contact him in some way.”

“I understand.”

The Uchiha watches the other investigators take their leave, silently wishing he could join them; that he could go home to his little apartment and fall into bed. But the stifling weight of the chain on his wrist – however thin the metal – distinctly reminds him of his inability. Obito lets out a breath to rid himself of the buzz of want in his chest and focuses back onto the screens displaying scene after scene from the trip to Aoyama.

The silence in the room is static, filtering out the click of a keyboard and the steady hum from working machines. Surprisingly, it is L who breaks it.

“Obito,” L starts.

The Uchiha hums to show that he has heard, eye still flickering over the screens.

“Do you know any techniques in ‘Naruto’ that can bring someone back to life?”

A simple question. One that would be entirely innocent in any other situation and Obito can’t force his muscles to relax no matter how hard he tries. Because damn it what is L _doing_ asking a question like that? What could he possibly mean by it? Because the detective always has a reason behind whatever inquiry he makes and Obito has no doubt that there are multiple surrounding this one. It takes a few seconds more for the Uchiha to calm himself with the hopeful idea that L is trying to make a connection with the Akatsuki and not _specifically_ with Obito himself. That just by answering this doesn’t make him any more suspicious. Because Obito knows a lot about ‘Naruto’, but so do many other fans, and this alone can’t uncover his identity.

“Well,” Obito pauses scratching his cheek as if in thought, “the rinnegan can. And the Edo Tensei but that requires sacrifices. Why?”

“Are there any that require them to be in the presence of the victim?” L asks, completely disregarding Obito’s own question.

The Uchiha frowns, shaking his head, “No, there aren’t.”

“You seem so sure of this when you didn’t know it was Hinata that protected Naruto.” L exclaims, looking at him in contemplation, as if a puzzle piece is starting to fall into place but doesn’t quite fit yet.

Obito shrugs, because how else could he possibly react to such a statement. The Uchiha had paid little mind to the details of Pein’s battle, but the archive of jutsu surrounding the revival of the dead is something he studied extensively after Rin perished. And what could it give away that would be so pertinent to solving the riddle that is the investigation into the Akatsuki?

The video recordings go by in relative silence for the rest of the allotted time, Obito noticing only a few instances where the back of his own figure is within the frame. And though that brings a slight blow to his ego to not avoid them all, he at least feels relief at the fact that he was not captured from the side or front. Angles that would be damning.

He shouldn’t be surprised that Watari joins him in convincing L to go to bed, shouldn’t be shocked that the older gentleman shuts the screens off with a soft but pointed look at the dark-haired detective. The Uchiha is grateful for it, though, because it makes it easier to drag the man away from his work and to the bed that they have been forced to share – or, at least, share on the rare nights that they don’t fall asleep in their chairs. Something that has happened, honestly, all of once since he has been stuck here, and Obito has no doubt that was the _only_ time the bed was actually used since the hotel room has been occupied by the detective. And even then, by the time Obito had awoken L was in a chair beside the bed reading through report after report.

Sharing the space with another is nothing new to the Uchiha, he has run missions and spent what feels like a lifetime in  a cave with clones all sleeping in a confined area. L, on the other hand, seems more opposed to it – completely uncomfortable if he is being specific. Obito feels absolutely _no_ pity for the slight discomfort. He is _handcuffed_ to the man after all – and petty, small revenge is still revenge.

After much bargaining Obito had been able to convince L that uncuffing him and letting him change in privacy is entirely reasonable. Because he is an Akatsuki suspect, not a Kira suspect and thus being alone for a few minutes shouldn’t be a problem. Plus, changing clothes while handcuffed is impossible. The pajamas in his hands are a plain black made from soft material, a simple set of one long sleeves shirt and sweat pants. Watari had picked the clothes up from his apartment the day after Obito was informed of his predicament and he has never been happier that he hadn’t set up traps there – anything of importance he keeps in his kamui dimension, after all, not to mention that Hisao and Cho have a habit of showing up unannounced.

As Watari uncuffed them to allow Obito the chance to enter the bathroom alone the Uchiha offered a smile, “Make sure he doesn’t try to work while I’m gone.”

The elder man chuckled goodheartedly, “I will do my best, Obito-san.”

L look scandalized between them, as if the two conspiring to force him to rest is the most grieves of betrayals and should be punishable with the most damnable of crimes.

The door clicked shut softly behind him and he breathed in the taste of solitude, revealing in the silence that settled on his shoulders.

“You’re turning into a mother hen.”

Or, well, close enough to it anyway.

“I blame you,” he whispers back, making sure his voice doesn’t carry as he starts readying himself for bed, Rin turning to give him privacy.

“Don’t blame me for your own personality traits,” she counters smugly.

Obito grumbles, letting the flush of the toilet cover up the noise to the outside world. As he stands before the sink, water running over his hands he studies his body – another reason to not let L be present when he is changing. The patchwork figure sewn together by a madman and wielded by an insane one. His throat tightens with a burn.

The discoloration, the scars. He even _looks_ like a monster – the white substance making up half of his torso isn’t even _him._ It’s plant matter, really, given to him be Zetsu and his clones. It’s the reason he can use mokuton so competently.

A body built to be a weapon of destruction and left to fulfill its creator’s wish. One he gladly, and wholeheartedly sought after. It isn’t even _his_ body. Not really. Sure if a DNA test was taken from the left side it would be undeniably him, but taken from the right it would leave a lot to be questioned.

Reaching up a tentative hand, fingers barely shaking with a sentiment Obito doesn’t want to think on, he traces the scratchy line of two different skin tones down his chest, the haphazardly stretched border a stark reminder of his past. Of what he was, what he became, and what he still is – a monster.

Naruto had said that it isn’t what you look like but what’s on the inside and what you do that makes you a monster, and by the Sage, Obito had been trying desperately to convince himself of that. But in the face of such a mismatched body it is despairingly hard.

No matter how many lives he saves, no matter how much good he does as the Akatsuki or within the task force it will not erase the sins of the past. It won’t take away the fact he destroyed Konoha, that he started a war, that he killed Minato-sensei and Kushina. That he started a criminal organization. It won’t take back any of that.

He wants to look away, to break the trance but he _can’t._ It’s like an accident so brutal your mind screams to turn away but your body is frozen at the sight of it, making your psyche endure.

Rin smacks him on the back of the head.

Hard.

“I don’t know how you would survive without me,” she sighs out, an esteemed tone to her voice.

“I think you’re getting a superiority complex,” he tells her flatly, even as his eyes are thankful.

The ghost snorts, floating to sit on the counter of the sink, though she really just floats a hairsbreadth above the surface. “I’m simply stating the obvious.”

He shakes his head, smile tugging petulantly at his lips, turning away from his reflection he dresses the rest of the way and moves to exit.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His old teammate calls out, and as he gives her a questioning look she points to his tooth brush by the sink.

Oh.

He must have forgotten when he was caught up in his own thoughts. Offering a sheepish smile as equal parts apology and thanks he shoves a toothpaste covered brush into his mouth, the taste of artificial mint covering his tongue. He’s just rinsing it off as the door bursts open to his right. Spinning around on instinct alone he holds out the toothbrush as if it were a kunai, threatening whoever the intruder is.

L stands in the doorway, looking between Obito and the improvised weapon with a raised eyebrow, while Rin doubles over in laughter to the side. Rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, Obito lowers his sanitary item, “Uh…”

“Yes?”

Rin bites her fist to try and stop her laughter. It doesn’t work.

“You surprised me?” He tries, the statement coming out as a question. L stares for a few more seconds, and if he weren’t a shinobi he would have squirmed under the gaze. But there is slight laughter in L’s eyes as he turns back towards the bedroom.

“Are you ready yet?” The detective calls back, starting to make his way out of the doorway.

“In a minute,” he mumbles out.

Obito wakes the next day much like he had the previous time – to L seated in a chair with reports in his hand – only, this time, there is an alarm involved. One that goes off at five in the morning. _Five._ The _sun_ isn’t even awake at that hour, in no way is Obito going to be. And, besides, they went to bed at two, because L insisted on being difficult about it. With a groan he shifts and stuffs his face into the overly-plush pillows that fill the stark white bed.

A finger presses into his side just as he starts to dose off once more, L’s voice accompanying it, “Get up, you promised to buy cake for breakfast.”

He lets out a huff, swatting the prodding finger away. “It’s five in the morning, nothing’s open.”

There is a small pause and then the finger is poking him in the shoulder, “There is a small twenty-four hour bakery three blocks from here.”

Obito cracks an eye open with the intention to glare before the lack of material wrapped around his face makes him abruptly realizes that he _isn’t wearing his eyepatch._ With a startled jolt he shoots up, hand covering his left eye in the process in case he opens it unconsciously. Dread fills his stomach – what if L looked at his eye when he was asleep? The thought is immediately dismissed, Obito would have noticed if someone touched him; he’s not the heaviest sleeper. But, then, what could have possibly happened to-

The train of thought is shut down when L dangles the white patch in front of his face. When Obito gave a confused but suspicious look the detective simply gazed back with flat eyes, “It fell off when you shifted. You shouldn’t wear it to bed, anyway.”

“Oh,” Obito mumbled, tying the accessory on, “thanks.”

Watari comes in then, as proper and gentle looking as ever, “Good morning, Obito-san.”

“Morning,” he manages to suppress the yawn that tries to worm its way into his voice. Rin, on the other hand, does not hold back on her yawn – head falling onto Obito’s shoulder as she closes her eyes once more with a mumbled complaint about the early hour. He really doesn’t understand the need for a ghost to sleep, but bringing that fact up would only upset his old teammate.

“I will have the car prepared momentarily.” The sentence makes Obito blink, his still-asleep mind trying to follow along. When it finally clicks the Uchiha tilts his head in confusion.

“The bakery’s only three blocks away, we can walk.”

“We?” L questions from his left, slate grey eyes looking back at him.

“Yes,” Obito huffs, “ _we._ Walking’s good for you.”

“It’s not safe for me to be seen leaving and entering the hotel.”

“It’s five in the morning.”

“Yes, Obito. Your deductive skills are improving.”

He scowls, “And yours are getting worse. I _meant_ that it’s five in the morning on a Saturday. No one in their right mind is awake.”

“Watari is awake.”

Obito falls back onto the bed with a whooshing release of breath causing Rin to call out in protest at the loss of her improvised pillow. At least the detective hadn’t said himself.

He pulls himself from the warmth of the bed with a regrettable look backwards, not even bothering to change into more presentable attire – because damn it if he’s up this early he sure as hell is going to be comfortable.

“Why do you even like sweets so much?” Obito grumbles as the cool morning air hits his skin, the street lamps along the sidewalk the only source of light. Squinting at the sky he can see a slight foreshadowing of morning on the horizon, but the dark blackness of night isn’t giving up its territory easily.

“They increase my brain function. The sugar increases blood flow.”

Looking back at the detective Obito raises an eyebrow at that, “You mean you eat sweets because the sugar rush helps you solve cases?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Obito snorts out, “Why don’t you just admit to liking them?”

“I do like them,” L agrees easily. “They also help with my ability to solve investigations.”

“A healthy diet and sleep would help even more,” he sighs out, knowing all too well that the detective won’t listen.

Obito forgets sometimes how slow civilians are in traveling, three blocks would take a shinobi only a few breathes to cover at full speed. But it takes five minutes that feels like a lifetime before the bakery comes into view. A small place, with fading lime-green walls and bold kanji illuminating the front. The inside is checkered, a display case to one side. A few sets of tables scatter the open area, a mismatched array of different styles and old metal chairs that were probably bought from the antique shop a few streets down, next to the book store he had bought ‘Naruto’ from.

Sliding into the chair with the best view of all possible exits and attack points Obito waited for L to make his choice. His eyes drooping as the minutes ticked by and Rin soothingly ran her hand through his white locks.

He doesn’t even remember falling asleep.

Waking up is slow, like pulling out of a web of cotton sticking to his arms and legs. He blinks his eye open, sight blearily coming into focus; the faded walls, chipped paint and dingy furniture. The smell of baked goods, strawberry and sugar filling his nose. Pulling his head out from his arms he looks at his companion scooping a mouthful of white and pink cake into his mouth, to the side two pastries sit – both missing larger portions than should be possible.

“Two hours.”

“What?” His voices comes out crackly with sleep.

“You’ve been asleep for two hours.”

Obito nods before narrowing his eye, “You’ve been eating cake for two hours?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to the investigation being the priority?”

“Are you upset because you want a slice?” L asks in lieu of answering, reaching over to the cake that looks to be chocolate in flavor.

“No, I-“ his protest is cut off as a forkful of food is shoved into his mouth.

“The German chocolate cake is quite good here,” L tells him, pulling back his hand and the fork. “But we have to go, Watari has been waiting for us outside.”

“Watari has been… Why didn’t you wake me?” Obito demands, because Watari has been nothing but kind to him and the Uchiha in no way wants to inconvenience the elder man.

L shoves his hands into his pockets as the baker packs the remainder of the cakes, Obito handing over the required money, “You looked tired.”

Of course he’s tired, he hasn’t slept well in weeks – no more than an hour or two a night – and maybe his patchwork body allows him to go days without food and water and sleep, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t _feel_ it after a while.

The ride back was short, only lengthened by the traffic of people rushing to work and trying to carry out their errands. Obito has used public transport a few times, and found it entirely unreasonable and far too crowded for his liking, simply resorting to traveling on foot whenever he has a need to go anywhere. He spent a lifetime doing it as a shinobi so continuing to do so in a city landscape isn’t a hardship.

It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the last time he used the subway it… hadn’t ended well. And no matter _what_ Cho says, Obito _did not_ over react.

Despite it already being past seven no other investigator has yet to show up to the hotel room, and Obito lets out a sigh of relief that L lets him be uncuffed to shower and change into something other than pajamas. No matter how soft and efficient in movement they are the clothes are ‘not appropriate’ to wear when one is a professional investigator. Whatever that means – Ryuzaki wears casual clothes constantly and his competence isn’t questioned.

The feeling of water running over him is welcomed and he leaves the pleasure all too soon. Drying off and pulling on a white button shirt, skewed orange tie, and dark blue suit pants. Exiting to the main room the Uchiha is surprised that no one has yet to show up – he has never taken long showers but it’s nearly eight and normally someone has appeared by now.

Settling into his chair next to L, Obito presents himself to be re-cuffed, disappointed when the click of the metal enclosing on his wrist sounds – the only noise that has occurred between the two since Watari picked them up. It’s L who breaks that steady silence – not a heavy one, but a comfortable companionship blanketing the atmosphere. “I hope my conclusion on your connections to Akatsuki are wrong, because I consider you…” he pauses here, an unsure air penetrating the air that muffles the final two words leaving the detective’s mouth, “a friend.”

Guilt.

That is what he feels in that moment, a penetrating guilt heavy set in his stomach and pressuring his throat.

 


	9. Water Fills the Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ello my lovely readers!
> 
> I just think fair warning should be in place for the next chapter – it will mostly be me diving into Obito's thoughts, so there won't actually be too much action, that'll come later.
> 
> And I know the chapter is short but it's up super early so yay! (my mind is mush from studying so I took a break and this is the result).
> 
> Anyway, onto this chapter! Hope you enjoy!

 

Monday comes around and Obito utilizes his ability to change unsupervised to switch out with a clone, who will take his place as long as needed, giving him plenty of time to infiltrate the Yagami household while Light is out at school. With that time he plans on searching the boy's room for the notebooks, and if necessary, the entire house. Because Light and Misa knew they were being watched that night, which means there is a possibility that the death notes have been moved.

There is also the possibility that Light has concluded it was the Akatsuki that night, meaning his plans against the criminal persona could have moved forward even more than Obito is ready to handle.

Using kamui to escape the hotel room, Obito lands in a back alley a block away and walks into the street because he wants to savor this taste of freedom. Besides, he has time, and hasn't spent nearly enough outside of that hotel room – receiving memories from clones who have may help his sanity but it's not the same as feeling the wind on his face in real time. Melting into the sea of people milling about the city Obito snags a phone from the pocket of an unsuspecting civilian. He needs to get in touch with Hisao and Cho to explain his predicament. He had completely forgotten, honestly, with how much was going on – and now he even has information about who the two Kiras are to share with them. As well as more… startling news.

Something that will, hopefully, make up for his long absence.

Dialing Cho's phone, praying she hasn't changed her number yet again, Obito steps into an alley and starts taking the back way to the Yagami's. It's best not to let anyone here their conversation, after all, and it's faster this way. The line rings, taking four cycles before his surrogate sister answers.

"Who is this?" Cho asks bluntly from the other end.

"Is that anyway for a lady to greet a friend?" Obito starts, trying for lighthearted, knowing all too well the lashing the woman is about to give him.

"Obito?" She asks, her voice getting harder.

"Before you get mad-"

"It's a bit late for that!" Though her tone is angry and her voice is louder than it was before it's nowhere near the normal level of volume she gains when chewing either him or Hisao out. It makes him frown.

"Where are you? Are you okay?" Obito asks, because he's only ever heard Cho use this voice when she was on a particularly harrowing job. Or had spent all night looking for a piece of information that turned out to not even be what the client wanted.

A sigh comes through the phone speakers, "I'm fine, Obi-chan. Just a bit stressed, my train got delayed for who knows how long, so I won't be back tomorrow like I planned."

"You were coming back tomorrow?" Obito says, surprised.

"Yeah, if you answered your phone you would know that." She bites out. He cringes at the guilt that pools in her stomach for making her worry.

"That's actually what I was calling about," he starts, twisting around a corner and sparing the cat to his right a short glance. "L has me handcuffed to him, I haven't been able to get away until now."

"What?" Cho exclaims sharply, "But my contacts say Akatsuki's been active."

"Yeah, long story short I can clone myself. Sort of." Because Shinigami _change_ things and, damn it, if he's going to protect his precious people as best he can then they need to know the truth. The _whole_ truth.

"You can clone yourself." She says deadpan.

"Sort of."

"Sort of." There's a long pause on the other end of the line before her voice comes through again, "When I get back you are going to explain _everything_ , got that. _Everything._ "

"I will, I promise. Just," Obito cuts back into another alley and walks up a wall to the roof of the building, "listen, I know who the Kiras are."

"Then why haven't you killed them yet!?" Cho demands from the other end.

Obito cringes, "I don't think I can."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Cho, they have a contract with Shinigami."

"You're kidding right? Please tell me you're kidding." When he doesn't answer she says slowly, "Obito, Shinigami aren't real."

"Cho, I can bring people back to life. Trust me, Gods of Death are real, and Yagami Light and Amane Misa have contracts with them."

"Yagami Light as in the son of the chief of police?"

"Yeah."

"Well shit."

"Exactly."

"Does Hisao know?" And he can hear the strain in her voice, the worry that threads between the syllables of each word.

"I was going to call him next."

"Shit."

"I need to go," he tells her as he comes upon the Yagami house.

"Call me later," Cho orders him. "And fuck, Obito, don't do anything stupid before I get back."

"Hn," the Uchiha sounds, "no promises."

He pauses for a moment, keeping an eye on the house as he dials Hisao's number. There is no answer. Frowning the Uchiha tries again, only this time he dials the shop directly instead of the old man's cell phone – he tends to forget to charge the device anyway. But there is no answer there either, a worry nags in his stomach but Hisao is smart enough not to do anything too rash and Obito trusts the man not to get caught. Perhaps he is simply out shopping or at Mayumi-san's again – he shutters, quickly shoving that thought out of his mind. He'll just have to find time to call again later. And he has no doubt that Cho will be calling the old man any time now too.

He shuts the phone with a snapping click and sends a shock of chakra through it before tossing it into a random trashcan – no need to keep evidence around. Walking up the side of the house with a light genjutsu in case any of the neighbors are watching he uses his sharingan to pass through the wall leading to Light's room, Rin following close behind.

The first thing he notices is the almost hyper-neat organization. Nothing on the floor, books placed in order by author and title. Bed made, desk perfectly clean. It wasn't the room of any teenage boy he had ever seen. Even shinobi, who were freaks about how they kept their houses – because traps were a constant necessity – weren't _this_ well-kept.

It also meant that if they touch anything then it would have to be place back perfectly or the teen would know. Obito let out a sigh, this killer is just making it annoyingly tedious to find evidence on him. Or, at least, the shinobi sense of collecting evidence – because Obito is pretty sure what he's doing is considered illegal in this reality. Which, yeah no, he doesn't understand – there are so many details that would help solve cases that can't be gathered legally. But maybe that's just the shinobi side of him speaking, the side that spent years on end doing exactly this so he could manipulate people and events.

Shaking his head so he could clear his thoughts Obito scanned the room; if he were in Light's shoes where would he hide a notebook that kills people?

Rin hovers over the shelves sticking her head through things – something which Obito presumes allows her to see if anything is hidden there. His own ability to go intangible really doesn't allow for something like that. Oh, he can see but not clearly – everything overlaps between the two dimensions so it comes out in a gray haze that doesn't let the finer details be seen. He's never wanted to have byakugan more than in that moment. Never wanted to have byakugan before at all, really.

He checks the bed first. Nothing.

"Nothing in the shelves," Rin announces, moving over to the desk.

He gives a nod to show he heard her, moving to look through Light's closet. Nothing.

"Obito!" Rin calls out, "I think I found it!"

Spinning on his heal he uses shunshin to cover the short distance, all too impatient to find what he's looking for.

"It's in the desk, under a trick bottom of the top drawer." Rin says, voice bubbling with excitement.

Obito pulls out the top drawer looking down at the too-empty space, only a simply diary placed in the exact center. Obito lifts the thick notebook placing it on the desk before studying his options.

"It has some sort of trap in it," Rin tells him with a frown, her head popping up through the wooden bottom. She ducks back under slightly, her eyes disappearing from his sight as she goes on to describe what she can see. The Uchiha has to hand it Light – he knows how to make things difficult. Eyeing the size of the hole that is burrowed into the underside of the drawer Obito's lips tug down. From the looks of it a senbon might work for what he needs at the moment. Slipping one from the inside of his sleeve he slowly but surely starts to sink it into the small opening. But before he can get even the tip in Rin is smacking him upside the head.

"You baka!" She cries out, "Senbon are  _metal_ you need to use something nonconducting!" Letting out a huff the ghostly girl crosses her arms with a glare, "Really, what would you do without me!"

Rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment Obito slips the senbon back up his sleeve. Biting his lip the Uchiha contemplates his options. He doesn't really have anything on him that isn't sharp, pointy and metal. "Ah, screw it," he mutters pulling out his senbon again he channels chakra into the small needle before putting it into the hole, letting a surge of chakra leave the weapon and travel through the entire systematic trap that the killer had set up, his breath slightly caught in his shuttering lungs as he waits to see if it will all go up in flames, both figuratively and literally. When it doesn't he breathes a sigh of relief before picking up the two thin, black books. As he holds them the only thing he feels is a slight tingle in his left eye but nothing more – no strange shock or world shifting difference in how he perceives the world around him. Rin reaches out as well, and though her hands go through them she scrunches up her brows in confusion. "It's like moving through mud," she tells him, pulling her hand back.

Opening them he looks at the inside cover to see a list of rules and directions for the use of the book. Scanning it over he realizes that they have already deduced most of them, baring a few. Continuing to flip through the pages he reads each set of names and dates with his sharingan connecting them to the files of victims that they were forced to read through as part of the investigation. He notices that some of them having longer descriptions beyond that, and Obito realizes abruptly that Kira can kill however he wishes – not just through a heart attack. It's the missing piece that the investigators could use to trace almost everything right back to Light. But there is no way to prove this, no real evidence pointing to the fact that Kira can do anything beyond give his victims a heart attack. Obito grits his teeth, why does this have to be so frustrating.

He looks up suddenly as the sound of the door downstairs opening resounds in the quiet house. With a curse Obito flips to the back of the books and quickly rips out a paper from each. Swiftly shoving them back into the false bottom of the drawer as close to how they originally were a possible. Carefully pulling his senbon out, he then places back the fake diary and disappears in a swirl of kamui.

Sitting in his grey blocked world Obito looks down at the two papers in his hands, folding them meticulously he seals them into a scroll and sets them by his Akatsuki clothes that he keeps in this dimension for safety.

Slipping back out of his personal world Obito creates a clone and pops it, letting the fact that he is ready to switch back out reach the clone taking his place next to L in the task force. It doesn't take much to make it back to the hotel bathroom, just a bit of chakra sent to his eyes and that is all. Changing places with his clone is painfully easy; just a senbon to pick the lock on the cuff and a quick release hand sign. Nothing to it.

As he and L return to the main investigating room the others are abuzz with energy, Matsuda excitedly calling out to the two, "The second Kira sent another message!"

Obito nearly trips with how fast L suddenly moves. _Nearly_.

They settle down to look over the message, just about to hit play to watch the tape when Light walks into the hotel room. The Shinigami following behind. Obito expertly masks his face as the creature is presented as if the Uchiha's rinnegan were bared. Rin to his right signs to him in a code made during the war for chunins on missions catching his attention. His muscles coil in shock – she can see it too.

"Light, good timing. A video message from the second Kira just arrived," Ryuzaki speaks up.

"Another one?"

"Yes. I think this is the last one," the detective says as he hits the play button on the remote and the electronic voice of the second Kira fills the room.

"I will not contact Kira. I'd like to thank the police for their advice. But I'm going to help Kira erase evil from the world, and gain his approval. I will begin by punishing criminals that Kira hasn't punished yet, including the Akatsuki. Who has opposed Kira and gone against justice. Also, I will share this power among those who are worthy and make this world a better place by-" the remainder of the sentence is cut off as L hits the pause button.

"Watching this…" L starts, placing down the remote, "makes me feel that Kira and the Second Kira have joined forces."

"How do you know that they've joined forces?" Light asks, a guarded look in his eyes.

"Didn't you sense it? I thought you would get the same impression." He looks back towards the TV, lifting a bite of a sweet snack to his lips, before continuing with his mouth still full, "First of all, this is the first time he's mentioned the Akatsuki, even after-"

Obito pays only half attention to the conversation of reasoning behind L's deduction, his mind to focused on the winged Shinigami approaching him. As he tracks it with his eyes the creature's smile widens, just as it reaches out to touch him Obito flashes his sharingan, causing it to draw his arm back and look at him with excited surprise. A _chuckle_ leaving its grotesquely wide mouth, the sound sends a chill down the white-haired shinobi's spine. So touching the notebook lets him hear it as well.

L's next sentence brings Obito's attention back to the conversation fully, "This lessens the suspicion I have of Light."

Obito almost smacks himself. _Almost._ And it takes more willpower than should be needed to not hit L upside the head. But he has to remind himself that the detective doesn't know about the existence of Shinigami or a notebook that can kill hidden in Light's bedroom.

"W-What do you mean, Ryuzaki?" Yagami-san calls out, his hope barely suppressed.

"If Light-kun were Kira, then he wouldn't have sent in a video like this."

 _'Except he did,'_ Obito pushes down the urge to frown, keeping his face deceptively blank as L continues.

"He would have tried to threaten me, L, into appearing on television again. Maintaining that lie that they aren't working together, he would have placed all the responsibility on Second Kira… And this is what he'd have him-"

The winged Shinigami touches his shoulder, all because he had stupidly let his guard down by listening to the dark haired detective with his full attention. This time around, however, he is more prepared for the full-body chilling pain that rushes over his nerves – stealing himself from the electric convulsion he only allows his hand to raise and rub at the small throb in his left eye. Simultaneously trying to quiet the roaring sound of lightening in his ears.

He comes back around enough to hear Light state, "I would never do that if I were Kira."

"Why?"

"I know your personality. You would never go on TV, no matter what is said. You don't want to die in someone else's place and would easily think of a way to escape."

"You figured it out," L eyes shined as he said this.

"Light, please stop saying 'if I were Kira'." The man's father demands, "I don't like hearing it, even hypothetically."

"Sorry… But I want to tell what I think. I have to pose the scenario in order to solve the case faster and clear my name. Besides, I'm not Kira so I can talk like this."

Obito holds back his snort at the man's claim. Seriously he thinks it's that easy to just-

"You're right. You're not Kira." Obito's chakra rages in his coils as L agrees, "No, it would be a problem if you were, because you're one of my first friends ever… you and Obito."

His chakra lashes out around him, rampaging uncontrollably – because Light, that bastard, is trying to _kill_ L – even as his mind stutters over the comprehension of L saying this so openly. He knows the others in the room feel the sudden surging tsunami of energy crashing through the air if the shivers that run down their spines are anything to go by. But he is too lost in his thoughts to really care.

The Shinigami floats around him, laughing with a maniacal glee. And as it makes another full circle the creature reaches out _again_ , only this time it places a long claw _right onto his rinnegan_.

He chokes on his scream.

It burns. A constant aching pulse that shoots fire through his eye and into his veins.

Before he can even tell what's happening he's on the floor clutching at his covered eye with his name being called from some distance away. His chakra flairs, spiking into the room and thickening the atmosphere. The world spins, or what little of it he can see from his position, so he shuts his eyes as tight as he can, tries to regulate his quick breathes back down to normal. Spots dance across his eyelids in time with each pulse of pain, his jaw starting to ache with how hard he is clenching it.

Someone's touching him. Not the Shinigami, no, these hands are warm and gentle against his shoulder and wrist. Another set, smaller, is running soothingly through his hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes to calm down, just that at some point his heart isn't beating so fast and the world feels more grounded. Starting to uncoil his muscles the Uchiha keeps one hand firmly planted over his still soar rinnegan. The chakra swirling in his coils unstable, and it takes a good few moments to calm the racing tides of energy. Tentatively he opens his right eye, coming face to face with dark grey orbs.

He doesn't yelp.

Yelping is extremely un-shinobi behavior and he is, above all else, a ninja.

"Obito-san," Yagami calls out from over Ryuzaki's shoulder, "what just happened?"

He furrows his brows, because he can't say ' _Oh, a Shinigami just poke me in my eye that has the ability to control death.'_ He gets the distinct feeling that wouldn't go over so well. "Phantom pains?" He mumbles instead, the words coming out as a question as he rises back to his feet.

"Like before?" Matsuda asks, tilting his head in thought, "When Light-kun first joined the investigation."

Obito blinks, he had thought no one remembered that incident – besides it wasn't nearly as bad as what he just felt. But he nods his head anyway, avoiding L's searching gaze, because if anyone can tell he is lying it's the dark-haired detective.

"Does it still hurt?" Yagami-san takes a step closer.

"A little," Obito tells the truth, because it will give him more time to collect his thoughts, and just _breathe_ around the ice in his lungs contrasting so well with the fire in his veins.

"You shouldn't rub at it," L tells him, taking hold of the Uchiha's wrist and force his hand away from his face. "Maybe the socket is dry," the detective reasons, reaching out to remove the eyepatch. Obito flinches back, and L's hand stops in its movement. Grey eyes slide over him as he resolutely stares at the floor. And Obito hasn't felt so small, like a child, in so long – it's then, really, that he notices how L has at least an inch on him – not since his genin days with Minato's lectures on proper training regimes that won't end in Obito getting hurt.

"Obito-san, you should let Ryuzaki look at it, he might be able to help," Light exclaims, and if it were from anyone else the Uchiha might have taken the concern laced thickly in his voice for being genuine. But it's Kira. Kira who probably knows the majority of the pieces to Obito's puzzle and is just trying to confirm the rest of his suspicions.

"If you don't punch him in the face I will." Rin says, bright smile spreading across her cheeks.

Obito snorts out a laugh too fast to cover it up, earning him confused looks from the investigators. Shaking his head he repeats himself, "It's just phantom pains. There's nothing you can do."

"How can you be so sure," Light counters, eyes brimming with victory as the other investigators start to nod in agreement, "and what would it hurt to let us have a look to make sure?"

"Light-kun is right, Obito," L says, but his voice is what makes Obito pause in his protest, because it's slower, less monotone than his voice normally is. There is no sarcasm or dry humor, no exacerbation at having to explain something that is clear as day to him. Just. A soft concern.

It's what makes him cast the genjutsu, a simple but hard to break illusion giving them the idea that they are looking at an empty eye-socket instead of his rinnegan. He's been a shinobi long enough to know what it's supposed to look like – even back when he was a kid, there was one old man that would tell ghost stories to kids on the street, he was missing one eye and would sometimes pull off his patch for extra flair. It was a time of war, such gruesome sights were a common place for shinobi and civilians alike, so parents thought nothing of letting their children see.

It's what stops him from flinching back again as L takes hold of his eyepatch, slate-greys never leaving his own.

He lets them look, and study his 'wound', watching with a roll of his one eye as Matsuda goes green in the face and has to turn away. He also takes sick pleasure in Light's face when the eyepatch falls away, the boy's eyes going wide, as if he expected something else – and Obito knows the man did. It's always so fun to defy expectations.

L starts to frown, eyes narrowing and it takes Obito a moment to realize that the man's mind is subconsciously _fighting_ the genjutsu. He has heard of civilians who are capable of doing so, all Uchiha have, because when it comes to one of their favorite fighting tactics they needed to know everything about it they could. He's just never actually _met_ someone capable of this. And the recklessly curious part wants to see how long it will take before L's brain sees more than just a bit of blurriness in the finer details. But the practical part that knows he needs to keep his cover and secrets… well… _secret_ for as long as he possibly can stops him from doing so. That part pushes him to recover his eye, and shift away from the task force's too-close faces still trying to see something that isn't even there.

"See," Obito mutters out, "I told you it was just phantom pains."

He breaks the genjutsu as he speaks, watching L closely as he does so – the only indication that the detective gave of noticing a shift was a blink of his eyes lasting a second longer than normal. Slumping back into his chair Obito rubs at his temples, a headache coming on as the throbbing subsides even more.

"Why don't you get a glass eye, Obito-san?" Light asks, eyes boring into his side.

 _'Why don't you just shut up,'_ he wants so bad to say. Shinigami or no Obito is going to end up murdering Light if he keeps this up.

"Because it won't make a difference," Obito grinds out. His healing factor kicks in then, taking the edge off of everything. By the time everyone leaves for the night his headache has disappeared along with the fiery boil of tense chakra in his left eye. With how easy the Shinigami can affect him should he be touched by the creature and how much pleasure it takes from doing so Obito is just about done with this case. He doesn't even know how to proceed; he can't exactly just present the notebooks to the investigators because they'll just conclude that _he_ is Kira not Light.

He flips another page of the 'Naruto' book he had pulled out to help him think and tell the investigators that he hadn't wanted to talk further on the subject of his 'missing' eye. Looking at Naruto's own decisions in difficult situations tends to help him, and absent mindedly scanning through the pages helps his mind settle.

The blonde boy, bright as the sun, and always stepping forward without a plan besides _helping_ and _protecting._ Reckless in his drive to bring a steady peace to the world. Not for the first time he thinks that it should be Naruto here instead of him – the boy would have known what to do, wouldn't have been swayed by the appearance of Shinigami. If the jinchuriki were here instead the case may very well have already been solved. Either that or Light would have been converted into a saint. And maybe that means he should try to take a page from Naruto's book and dive in with reckless abandon for any plans other than his own unwavering belief that he can win and protect what is precious to him, protect what _needs_ protecting. Because for the sunshine blonde that was plan enough, and it _worked_ , worked so illogically well against all odds and a _goddess_.

But…

But Obito _isn't_ Naruto. And diving in so daringly brash hadn't even worked when he was younger and naïve. The fates won't shine in his favor if he acts heedless of what might happen should it not work out. And look where waiting has brought him – he now knows without a doubt that Light is Kira, has means to have the investigators see the Shinigami, knows what the murder weapon is and where it is kept. Patience seems to do him more favors than rushing in ever has.

"You don't agree with my assessment of Light-kun, do you Obito?" L's voice snaps him back into reality.

"I…" he hesitates because seriously, what basis does he have for his suspicions? Or, at least, what basis that he can actually _tell_ Ryuzaki about? But wouldn't it be better to tell L and try to bring the detective's guard back up fully? His resolve found his eyes steal over as he speaks, "No, I don't, I can't really explain it… it's just a gut feeling." And even if it _was_ just that any good shinobi with enough time in the field knows to listen to those instincts – they keep you alive.

"I see," Ryuzaki mutters, bringing his thumb up to his lips.

Two days pass in a blur, Obito trying his best to avoid the Shinigami, and Rin doing her best to act like she can't see the beast in all its detailed glory. It doesn't touch him again, seemingly having figured out whatever it was looking for.

There is nothing happening within the investigation at that moment, going over messages from the second Kira and nothing more. It's not long into it that Light reaches over and turns on the news as well, playing it alongside the other screens of video from Aoyama. Because L had _insisted_ on re-watching those, of course.

He doesn't pay much attention to the screen – opting to instead keep reading the report in his hands from the lab analysis of the most recent set of tapes – until they start talking about the fact only one murder from Kira has occurred over the course of the day. The news anchors sat speculating what this could possibly mean, and with the victim having been so recently arrested too – only about two days ago. Obito looked up with the rest of the investigators, more than interested to know who Light would have targeted so harshly as to make such a spectacle of their death.

When the photo of the deceased is finally shown on the screen Obito's world stops.

"Hisao?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also! I posted a new story - it's a Kakashi/Obito fic called 'Walk the road of life.'


	10. A Sea of Crutches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Ello lovely readers!
> 
> I know this chapter is shorter than most…
> 
> It was originally part of the last chapter but I decided to split them (which is actually the only reason it is up – really it’s just the brain child of a headache).
> 
> And because you were all nice enough to be sad about Hisao dying I’ll give you the official chapter count – 13.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy and please review!

 

“Hisao?” Obito’s voice comes out small and hesitant, disbelief mixed with equal parts denial and dawning comprehension. He feels Rin’s hand on his shoulder, logically knows she wants to comfort him, but the tight raging twist in his chest won’t be calmed.

Before anyone living can say a word the Uchiha is across the room, dragging L along with him as he acquires his orange cell phone. The time it takes for the device to power on passes with an eternity stringing behind. He’s in a daze as he hits the correct keys, not even bothering to care when others are calling out to him, eyes still partially glued to the television screen, silently begging it to reveal it’s all a lie, a mistake.

“O-Obito,” Cho’s voice chokes through the receiver, and his world plummets to shatter at his feet. “You can save him right? You can bring him back?”

The clock strikes five with a resounding click that settles somewhere in his stomach. He’s too late.

He’s _always_ too late.

Hisao, the person he considers to be a friend, one of his _closest_ friends was just _murdered_ by Kira. His precious person killed, again. And there was nothing he could do to _stop_ it – hours have already passed, too much time for him to use the rinnegan. With all his power over life and death he can do nothing. He feels so helplessly guilty, it is all his fault for involving the older man in this, all his fault for allowing the man to become his runner of sorts for Akatsuki. All his fault for being selfish during his first month in this reality and not wanting to be lonely enough that he allowed a bond to form between him Hisao and Cho. His fault. It’s always his fault.

“Obito,” Cho says again, “tell me you can bring him back!”

“Cho,” her name comes with whispered apologies he can’t manage past the lump in his throat.

The screaming sob that comes through the phone slices like a kunai into his heat.

He promised.

He _promised_ that he would keep Hisao safe and out of trouble, that Cho would come back to a whole family not a broken one. Not _again._

Just like he promised Kushina.

_‘Not even a scratch.’_

But the team came back without a member and the others injured. Broken and still shattering with each sunken step into their short lives.

His fault.

Rin’s death. Because if he hadn’t loved her, if he had been stronger, if he had just left the tender cares of Madara and Zetsu _earlier_. Not told the elder man about his love for her, or how she was the reason he would want to fight for peace. Then she wouldn’t have been chosen to be the sanbi’s container, wouldn’t have thrown herself onto Kakashi’s chidori in order to save Konoha.

But she _had._

And in turn, Obito lost his mind.

Because despite how hard they try to hide it Uchiha love and love so fiercely that tipping the scale to hate only takes a thinly cut blade. Because no matter how they force the idea that they are emotionally-oppressed they risk love so much that they are cursed with hate once they lose it.

And they always lose it.

And Madara had played that fate so well. All because he wanted Obito to follow his plans.

Minato-sensei’s death lays thickly on his hands in shades of crimson that won’t ever wash away. Because he had extracted the kyuubi with ruthless appeasement and controlled its attack with the sharingan. Sent it after Konoha and all his precious people that he had hated so blindly in his maddening grief. Forced Minato-sensei to sacrifice himself to seal the fox into his only new-born son. All because he knew that Minato would give anything for his home – no one ever loved the village hidden in the leaves as Minato had, after all. And he had felt so self-righteous in his act – justified it with how he believed Minato had always looked _through_ him, never _at_ him. When in reality his sensei was one of the only in Konoha that believed in him wholeheartedly.

Kushina’s death. For if he hadn’t sought revenge, hadn’t wanted to collect the tailed beasts and destroy the elemental nations, then he wouldn’t have extracted the fox from her, wouldn’t have sent her to her death.

Naruto’s unhappiness. The destruction of Konoha. The murder of the blonde’s Hyuga friend. The loss of his parents the day he was born. His savior’s pain and ruined childhood is inked delicately on his list of sins.

Right next to the murder of his whole clan. The Uchiha massacre – laying heavily on his shoulders. If he hadn’t tantalized them, if he hadn’t helped Danzo spread creeping rumors like roots across the foundation of the village. If he hadn’t attacked with the kyuubi under the influence of the sharingan. He even helped Itachi commit the act behind his orange and black-striped mask. Felt justified in doing so because the boiling raging anger inside him wrapped itself with a lost-little-boy’s hate for a clan that sought to ostracize him. A clan that never saw his worth, his potential, all because he hadn’t activated the sharingan. A clan that pushed him to the outside because he was _different_ because he didn’t conform, showed emotions, cried, helped old woman and the citizens of Konoha. Because for the time he was _alive_ he was more loyal to his team than he was his so-called-family.

He still remembers how jubilant he felt cutting the heads off of Uchiha children. The sick, squelching thud they mad as they hit the blood drenched ground.

His fault.

Kirikagure fell by his hands. It raged a civil war by his hands.

He destroyed an entire nation, all because it was them who Madara used to kill Rin.

Oh, how the Mizukage’s mind fought against his genjutsu.

His fault.

The world went to hell and he ensured that it fell to the deepest pits just as he had. And he _reveled_ in it. Because now, _now_ these people with know the pain he has felt and they too will rally behind his creation of a new world; a world built with peace in every fiber instead of loss and war.

So many dead because of a pipe dream.

So much blood soaking his hands.

_All his fault._

And now that he has left behind this delusion, now that he has finally started to build up his little world of precious people again. Filled with a grumpy, old criminal and a snarky, gun-slinging informant. Shakily forming to accommodate a socially-awkward, genius detective, and a small group of courageous investigators.

Now. It all falls down.

Because he had dragged Hisao into a world the old man could have gone his whole life without.

Because he hadn’t checked _sooner_ , hadn’t bothered to make sure that Hisao was safe – should have seen the _signs_. Especially when the old man hadn’t answered either of his phones.

Because he’s too late.

Always too late.

A hand touches his cheek then, tracing a wet track that he only then notices. _‘Rin,’_ he thinks for a moment, but the hand is too big, yet no less comforting. Focusing his eyes he’s met with L’s concerned frown.

“Obito,” the detective says, a question in his name as well as a statement of support.

“I…” Obito tries to get out, lip tugging down, “I don’t understand.”

He doesn’t, truly. Because hadn’t he protected Hisao and Cho enough? Hadn’t he kept Light’s eyes on him and Akatsuki?

But the sobs sounding through his phone are answer enough to that.

“You knew him,” the dark haired man concludes.

Obito nods numbly back.

“Please,” Cho’s voice whispers through the speakers, “please, Obito, just try. I- I can’t… Obito, _please_.”

His heart clenches with each word, another tear streaking down his scarred face. He failed, failed, failed, failed. Couldn’t protect his precious people, couldn’t keep his promise to Cho, couldn’t make up for the monster he is.

“He was a criminal,” Light says from the side, “why do you-“

It happens in the space between a stuttering exhale and faltering inhale, when the lungs pause to decide whether to take another breath or not. Before the click of the clock takes another second from him. The glint of metal becomes an after image as he moves, blade meeting flesh a hairsbreadth of distance from deadly. The handcuffs clatter to the ground behind him, but he doesn’t bother to listen to the investigator’s exclamations of shock. To busy taking pleasure in the way Light’s eyes spark as a kunai is held to his neck.

“You bastard. Why?” He growls, voice hoarse. And when Light looks at him as if he’s _insane_ and has no idea what Obito could possibly be referring to, the Uchiha just about snaps. The chakra in his coils – spiraling like the infamous whirlpools of Uzushio – flood to his eyes. And maybe the burn of overloading his sharingan feels like the boulder all over again, but the anger and _hate_ storming in him waters it down to bearable.

The look of equal parts shock, confirmation and fear in Light’s eyes makes a satisfied grin stretch his mouth that is more teeth than it has any right to be. But it doesn’t last long, deteriorating into a scowl before the _boy_ can even blink his brown orbs. Oh, how he’s missed having his sharingan activated, everything is so _slow_ without it, not nearly as sharp and focused. Now, he can see every little twitch of muscle in Light’s face as it tries to hide the rising dread with the realization of how close he is to death.

“WHY?!” He repeats with a cry, “WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?!”

“Obito-san,” and the _boy’s_ voice is too calm for his liking, too ready to lie. With a growl that rises from his chest and catches on the lump of emotions in his throat Obito presses the blade in his hand slightly closer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not Kira.”

Choking on his laugh Obito whispers, “ _Liar,_ ” but he doesn’t press the kunai farther as Rin’s hand falls on his shoulder.

“Obito!” Cho calls over the line – the phone still pressed to his ear – her voice raw and filled with tears but commanding. “What did I say about doing anything stupid!?”

“How was he caught?” Obito says instead of answering.

“I-“ his friend cuts off for a moment, “I’m not sure, but Shiki said it was an anonymous tip.”

It’s thanks to his sharingan that he catches the twitch of a smug smirk on Light’s lips, and Obito _knew_ before he even asked that it was the boy, but this is just confirmation. The phone in his hand cracks with the force he is placing on its frame, the device dropping to the floor as the screen sputters and then finally goes out.

“You bastard,” he grinds out.

“Obito-san, drop the weapon,” Yagami-san says from his right, the click of the safety on a gun being unlocked resounding in the room. He turns his head so he can see the chief, grabbing hold of his chakra enough that his sharingan deactivates before anyone but Light can see. If this ends poorly he needs a backup plan – needs an ace in the hole that he can pull out – because even as he’s being brash he can’t fight the part that needs to have some sort of contingency.

His takes in the angle of the gun’s aim and concludes it would only incapacitate him. Should the bullet even hit him, that is.

“Obito,” L calls out to him next, coming up from behind on his right side. ”You need to calm down.”

“Calm down?” Obito whispers out, head swiveling further so that his face can be seen by the detective. “He killed Hisao. He killed someone _precious_ to me!”

“What are you talking about, Obito-san?” Yagami-san calls out, voice angry at having his son accused, but filled with worry at the same time.

“Light is Kira.” He announces, assured in his accusation.

Light puts on a frustrated frown – and Obito has to give it to the boy, he can wear a mask as well as any shinobi. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m not Kira.”

“Obito, drop the knife,” L tells him softly, his hand coming up to rest on his wrist – and since when had he been so close? And since when has that proximity become so reassuring? “If you think Light is Kira then prove it with evidence. This isn’t justice.”

The Uchiha meets L’s steady grey eyes – eyes that aren’t accusing or fearful. Aren’t angry at his actions or disappointed. Simply… steady. Demanding and slightly confused. _Worried_. But not about Light, about _him._ And… and L is someone he considered precious. Someone he wants to protect and even trusts – at least as much as any shinobi can trust anyone.

_‘This isn’t justice.’_

Justice.

It’s this reality’s peace.

Rin, who has float around to his left side, rests her hands onto his arm. “Listen to him, Obito,” she tells him. “Don’t be stupid, and listen to L-kun.”

 

 


	11. Lines Keep Changing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ello my lovely bloodthirsty readers!
> 
> Your enthusiasm about Obito kicking Light's butt is… impressive to say the least and much appreciated.
> 
> Anyway, we're in the home stretch as far as this fic goes – only two more chapters after this!
> 
> College is so hectic with welcome week and the start of classes, plus trying to find a part time job, but I’ve made some good friends too!! So it’s just fair warning that updates might take a bit longer, but my ultimate goal is to have the last chapter up by New Year’s!
> 
> I want to thank you all for your support and reviews, it means so much!
> 
> Anyway, here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!

 

Rin is telling him to listen, to think this through. And she has always been the voice of reason, even back on team seven when Kakashi and he fought near constantly. Gentle and caring with a soft tenure of hope that they will hear her.

But he doesn't _want_ to, doesn't know if he can, because sitting back and planning and thinking has led him to the funeral of his precious person.

Hisao is dead.

Just like Rin.

Just like Minato-sensei.

Hisao is dead.

And there is nothing he can do, all the power that he has gained over years and years and years is worthless, the rinnegan having met its limit. The 'eyes of god' made useless by Yagami Light, by Kira. And Obito can't let this go, won't.

But.

But that isn't what Naruto would do. Naruto wouldn't seek revenge. Hadn't, even when Obito had killed Neji, one of the Uzumaki's precious people. No, he had sought to talk sense into Obito, to get him to understand what he had done wrong. And maybe… maybe Obito can't do that the same way that Naruto can, but he can at least attempt something similar, he can at least… he can at least listen to L, prove Light's guilt through this world's demanding means.

Which is why he pulls back, lets the kunai leave the boy's neck, who stumbles away towards his father.

He's shaking, can feel a wet streak running down his scarred cheek, another joining it soon after and for a moment Obito wants to laugh the bitter taste out of his throat – when was the last time he had cried this much for anyone other than Rin?

The Shinigami is chuckling where he floats somewhere behind the Uchiha, "That was a close one, eh, Light-kun?"

Obito holds back a snort – he may have agreed to not kill the boy, but that doesn't mean he won't ruin his life.

Because he had waited once and lost so much. Because what if Light goes after Cho next, _oh Kami_ Obito doesn't think he'll have any sanity left after that. As it stands Cho, Rin and L are his only anchors. Rin – a ghost, dead and gone, but so susuptable to a Shinigami's will. L – a detective on this case with Kira already vying for his life. Cho – in danger now, if this is any indication. So no. No, it wasn't a _'close one'_ because he is just getting started thank you very much.

There is no clan that cherishes love as much as the Uchiha, and when it is taken from them they can be terrifyingly vicious in their revenge.

"Prove it?" He absently says.

"Yes, Obito," L tells him, hand still on his wrist, "but you need to let go of the knife."

Obito blinks at him, his eye still slightly blurred from the tears that have dropped, looking from the detective back down at the kunai in his hand. He stops himself from snorting, because do they truly believe that removing a single, metal weapon from him will make them safer? Will make him any less capable of ending their lives? His entire body was created for nothing more than taking lives, sewn together choppily to set him on the world and see its destruction.

"Obito…" Rin trails off, concern etching into her wide eyes.

They want him to prove through hard evidence that Light is Kira. Okay. He can do that. Yet the edging pain in his heart proves that Light deserves more than watching his world fall apart around him. So much more.

His chakra is raging in his coils still, his grip on emotions only allowing him enough control to keep the sharingan at bay and a handle on his killing intent enough that the others won't faint from the potency. He has little doubt that they haven't felt it on some level, however, if the shivers trembling their limbs are any indication. But he can keep his eyes a deep grey, which… might be just enough pinpoint control to set the killing bastard under a genjutsu, a short one, but painful nonetheless.

And maybe the boy will know when he comes out from the illusion that it was nothing more than that, but for now, watching Light fall to his knees and curl into a ball is more than worth it. The startled cry that accompanies the crumpling of his form sends satisfaction through the Uchiha's veins. Obito has to suppress his vindictive smirk – being crushed under a boulder is only the tip of the pain he has felt in life, but it will have to be enough. For physical pain that is – however much it's in the boy's head, his body will ache for days after this.

Light's father calls out his name, the other investigators stumbling a step forward but freezing in the same motion, unsure what to do.

Yet L's focus only shifts for a blink of a second, eyes imploringly looking at the Uchiha.

"Obito," L repeats his name, finger dancing down along his pulse and touching the tip of his kunai's handle.

Obito's angry, so angry, and it would be so easy to slip into it – let the hate and rage consume him again, let it lead him to kill Kira and then hunt down the second Kira and do the same. To fall back into the curse of hatred.

He did once. When he lost Rin.

He lets L take the kunai from his grasp – he likes to think he's more mentally stable now than when he first left Madara's cave.

Noone moves to apprehend him, despite his supposed status as unarmed. He thinks it must be L's doing. But there's the bite of cold metal back on his arm, and a string of chain connecting him to the detective, sitting right under the warm feeling of skin on his. For all good that the cuff will do. And he knows that L realizes its futility, so perhaps it's just for the peace of mind of the other investigators.

"Yagami-san take Light-kun to the hospital," the detective orders, grip tightening on Obito's wrist as he gives commands. "Matsuda-san go with him. The rest of you head to the station and find out as much as possible about Takahashi Haruto."

They scrambled to comply with L's orders Matsuda and Yagami-san working together to pick up the chief's son and get him medical attention for an affliction never seen before in this world. The doctors won't know what's wrong and Light won't be able to break the genjutsu, so the only option is to let the illusion run its course like a virus. It should pass within a handful of minutes, but depending on how poorly the boy's body reacts he could be asleep for twenty-four hours or more.

When the last of them click the hotel room door shut L tugs gently on Obito’s arm to pull him into the adjacent bedroom. He’s still in a slight daze, trying to control his anger and chakra that whirls with grief. The detective sits him pointedly onto the bed, a serious look crossing his face that – if Obito were looking closer – hid the concern dwelling beneath.

“How do you know Takahashi?” He hears over the roaring in his ears.

“Hisao is-“ his breath catches in his throat as the word fumbles from his tongue. ‘ _Wrong’,_ his mind supplies, ‘ _he’s_ dead, _Light killed him.’_ “-was a friend.”

“Where’d you get the weapon, Obito?” He knew this question was coming. Watari had searched him just as he was being cuffed – of course finding nothing, he’s a _shinobi_ thank you very much. But he still doesn’t have an answer that is… physically acceptable to the known rules of this universe. At least, not one that will make L believe him – because everything will be revealed and he _knows_ this, so it becomes a matter of ordering the revelations in such a way that they are most believable.

He’s spent a lifetime manipulating people, he knows how to gain someone’s belief.

So he answers with an unclear shrug of one shoulder.

“Do you know what happened to Light-kun?” L asks instead of pushing, clearly having drawn his own conclusions or waiting for Obito to give a separate hint in another answer to his list of questions.

 “It’s a long story,” he whispers around a racing heart lodged thickly in his throat. The Uchiha stares blankly down, eyes locking on where L still has a hand wrapped firmly around his wrist – the abrupt realization that he doesn’t want the detective to let go sends a jolt of energy down his spine. Even as his more logically sound trains of thought reason that L is only feeling his pulse for any indication of lies.

“We have plenty of time, Obito.”

Plenty of time? Such a new concept to him. He’s always been so late. Late to missions and training, late to saving Rin, and helping to save the world. And now too late to save Hisao.

Always late.

One would think that he’s learned by now.

The pause between them stretches as these thoughts crowd his mind – but a squeeze from L’s hand draws him from the fog and leads him to let his voice cut through the silence.

“I can prove Light is Kira.”

Obito knows L knows he's changing the subject to avoid answering the questions - at least for a little longer, because he will have to in order to prove Light is Kira. And it speaks volumes on how far their relationship has come that the detective not only lets him, but participates in the transition with interest. Leaning forwards with grey orbs alight with curiosity.

He decides to start with the basics and move from there – pinpointing Light’s reactions and lack thereof to certain situations. He starts by explaining those thing that don’t make him look clinically insane without extensive evidence.

“Yes, Obito I’ve already observed this. But it is all circumstantial,” L tells him plainly. _‘It doesn’t explain your reaction,’_ is what he is truly saying.

“That’s not all.” Obito holds back his initial urge to snap the words out. “Light hides two notebooks under a fake bottom in a drawer. It’s how he kills.” The rest comes out in a rush – a jumbled commentary on how the Death Note works and how the compartment hiding them can be dismantled safely. Trying to make the detective believe that Shinigami _actually_ exist and you can see them if you touch the notebooks. That the second notebook belongs to the second Kira and that L was right when he said the two teamed up.

L watches him, unblinkingly, throughout the small speech.

“Why didn’t you bring this up earlier?” The detective finally asks.

“I wasn’t sure you’d believe me,” he mumbles out with a small roll of his eyes, because Shinigami and supernatural killer notebooks aren’t exactly normal.

L nods, seemingly in understanding, “Watari, please tell Aizawa and Ukita to retrieve the notebooks and bring them here,” the detective pauses for a moment in contemplation before continuing. As if deciding whether or not to go through with his next statement, “And have Amane Misa detained.”

Watari leaves the room in a quick succession of clicking steps to do as asked, having listened in to their entire conversation with a close ear. And Obito doubts he will fail to explain how to dismantle the trap Light has managed to set up.

“You believe me?” Obito asks, tentative in his hope.

“There is a ten percent chance you are telling the truth.”

“Ten percent?”

“You are the person I trust the most. I would like to believe you,” L starts, and Obito’s heart soars at the proclamation, “but the existence of Shinigami is hard to accept without more evidence.”

The Uchiha expected this, can understand the detective’s stance. If only a little.

“You’re still avoiding my previous questions, however. And this only raises more.” L tells him plainly, a factual monotone voice drilling into Obito’s head, “How did you manage to find the notebooks and the identity of the second Kira when you have been handcuffed to me?”

Oh. Obito really was hoping the detective wouldn't notice that whole massive hole in his story. It's then really that he realizes just how much he is giving up with this. Not to say he hadn't known it would come to this the second his mind caught up with his body and found himself holding a kunai of all things to Light's neck, yet it's sends bolts of nervous energy through him nonetheless. But it's for Hisao. It's for Cho's safety and Rin's and L's.

Because Light went after Hisao believing that Obito wouldn't be willing to give up his position in this game to bring him down. Either that or he didn't understand how much evidence that the Uchiha actually has, so he had attacked Obito and the Akatsuki as a means to get him to expose himself and take out a major threat as well as reduce the number of investigators and put into question everything Obito has said. Clearly the boy is underestimating not only him, but L as well.

And if this ends poorly, well he has options - changing his name and appearance and running isn't something new to him. And Cho has been doing it all her life as well, so she would hardly hold any objections.

"That's a long story," he whispers out, flashes of his home misting over his eyes.

"Then tell me the short version," L states simply. And Obito barks out a laugh before he can stop himself. Because what in his life has ever been explained simply enough to be short?

"You should tell him," Rin encourages, with all her soft mediating tendencies, "he deserves to know."

"I don't even know where to start," he says to both of them, or neither perhaps as it comes out more as an absently voiced thought than anything.

"The beginning," L says just as Rin calls out much the same.

Obito lifts a sardonically bitter smile that softens into a hard edged wistful irony at the end. Such a simple answer. But what was the beginning? When he came into this world? When he was saved by Naruto? Attacking Konoha? Being crushed under the boulder? And who’s to say he has to tell the whole story? L is smart enough to fill in anything he leaves out.

"Just... Don't interrupt, okay?"

L nods his agreement.

"I was kind of the black sheep of my family," and if he said the term with more spite than most? Well, not all his bitter sentiments grew from Rin's death. "The Uchiha clan was old fashion, and I didn't really fit the mold. I was more loyal to my team and the village than to them. By the time I made genin Konoha was at war. When I was chunin I still hadn't awoken my clan's blood-limit and it wasn't till my team was sent out on a mission gone wrong that it manifested. But… I didn't make it home and was saved by my supposedly dead ancestor. A lot happened after that, but it ended in me trying to take over the world and-"

L interrupts then, despite the Uchiha's request, "Obito, you aren't Ushida Okura, that's a-"

"No," Obito agrees snapishly, "I'm not. My name's Uchiha Obito," because Naruto has all but hammered that into his head. Had worked so hard to make him accept that identity again. "S-ranked Konoha shinobi and leader of the criminal organization Akatsuki." His sharingan flared to life in his eyes - only one visible for the detective to see.

There is a long pause, as L stares wide-eyed at the spinning red and black orb. The silence stretches so much that Obito starts to fidget, twitching under the detective’s scrutiny. But this should answer all the man's questions - how he knows about the notebooks, and what happened to Light. Not to mention the mystery surrounding the Akatsuki. There's a tug in his chest that resembles guilt so closely it makes his tongue set with bitterness. Because L trusted him, claimed Obito as a _friend_ , and he has betrayed that.

"Ushiba Okura has kamui," L mutters out, a thumb moving to rub at his teeth.

Obito gives a sheepishly shaky smile that is only partially encouraging of the detective’s train of thought. A sudden childishly, mischievous burst of energy enters him then - something he hasn't felt since his genin days. Maybe Naruto had rubbed his prankster nature off on the Uchiha as well.

Pulling chakra into the coils around his eyes is as easy as breathing. Reaching out and spreading the fibers connecting his dimension to this one is second nature.

Twisting his wrist so that his hand is gripping L's back the Uchiha adds just enough extra chakra to pull the detective along.

The grey world comes into focus with a flourish of swirling imagery as the strings holding the world in existence spin together once again. Obito takes pleasure in the speechless amazement written across L's face. What more proof could the detective now need that what Obito has been saying is anything but the truth?

"This means..." L starts, his voice low enough to be considered talking to himself as he stumbles slightly at having never experienced such a sudden shift before. Obito catches hold of the detective’s arms to steady him as slate eyes scan their surroundings.

Obito hums, "Only a few names were different from what I read. Everything else was pretty much the same."

"You died.”

"And somehow ended up in your world with no other dimension open to me."

"So this is why the Akatsuki is so successful.”

He just shrugs at that - it's true after all.

"You had two eyes when you died," the detective suddenly says. Obito blinks, he had forgotten about that to be honest. Either way he now sees no point in hiding his second eye when in the detectives presence, so as L reaches out to remove the clothe eyepatch he gives no resistance.

His purple ringed orb stares back into curious slate grey.

"The rinnegan," L states, and if he were anyone else Obito would say the breathless rush in his voice is awe. The detectives gaze hardens then. "It doesn't require you to be in the victim's presence. Why didn't you save the news anchors?"

He scowls, trying to hide the building guilt, "I'm not a hero." _‘I'm a monster.'_ "I saved Ukita because he's my teammate," _'not like I could save my other comrades.'_ "And the officers were circumstantial." _'I couldn't stop seeing Naruto and Sauke instead.'_

L's eyes soften for but a moment there, seeming to read underneath the underneath.

"If you know who the Kiras are then why not just kill them?" He moves onto his next question easily enough.

"I'm not a murderer either," he snaps out, teeth bared, _'not anymore.'_ It shouldn’t hurt so much for L to ask that, it really shouldn’t by all logic make his heart clench in pain. But when has Obito’s life ever been dictated by logic? And maybe he can comprehend the train of thought – Ushiba Okura is a shinobi trained to kill, and by the end of the series he has changed but ninja are ninja to the end. It still hurts, however, that the detective would think that lowly of him and the Akatsuki when Obito hasn’t taken a life since his first real mission in this world when the Red Scarves fell. All other deaths during his missions where… not committed _directly_ by his hands.

Seriously, if he keep phasing through bullets and the men behind him keep dying then they should be smart enough not to shoot anymore.

"Besides," he crosses his arms, "they have contracts with Shinigami. I'm not even sure I _can_ kill them."

L nods before scanning their surroundings again. Eyes falling back on Obito with an odd hopeful look. "I don't suppose you have cake here, do you?"

He can't help the bubbling laughter that brings tears to his eyes and leaves his stomach aching with effort. Obito swears that through his blurred vision he sees L give a softly affectionate look adorned with a small smile but the next time he gets a clear view it’s gone.

His heart still hurts, his world a little emptier of precious people. But standing here with L lifts a weight he hadn't realized settled on his shoulders until its pressure lifted.

They go back because they have no other choice, really. They can't spend forever in his kamui dimension. And when they spiral into existence Watari is there rushing around the room, as best as his old joints will allow, obviously looking for them. As the elder spots them, he freezes in his tracks and it takes another ten minutes to explain what had happened –  and though it was believed Watari still forced them back into the main room so he could keep an eye on them.

L was just about to shovel another forkful of cake into his mouth when he pauses. Curiosity filling his gaze. Again. "Could you place me under a genjutsu? I want to know what it's like."

"I already did, when I took off my eyepatch," he waves off.

"Yes, but I wasn't aware of it and don't recall exactly how it felt," L counters.

He lets out a huff, because he knows the man won’t let this go – as he hadn’t any of the other numerous questions he’s asked since their return. So he molds his chakra and lets the illusion blanket over the detective. He, himself, curious as L had shown resistance to genjutsu before, and he wants to see how strong that is now that he has the chance. The Uchiha had put enough chakra into the jutsu to last at least five minutes without interruption.

But has he watched the detective’s reaction and the seconds tick by Obito realizes that not even three minutes pass before the dark-haired man has broken from the illusion. And as the last tendrils of chakra fall away, and slate-grey eyes lose the dazed glaze that some genjutsu induce L gives him a glaring look.

Obito blinks back innocently, trying to suppress a twitching smile.

“You are true evil,” L tells him factually. As if the statement is indisputably true.

“Vegetables are good for you,” he says, mimicking the detective’s tone.

"You turned my cake into broccoli."

Obito nods sagely, "Broccoli has a lot of antioxidants."

The door clicks open before L can reply, the resounding slap of shoes against floor echoes into the patterns of two people entering the room – Aizawa and Ukita have returned. Notebooks in hand.

And files too.

A stack of ten thick folders that thump as they are set on the table. The bold red of Hisao’s real name printed across the top of the first one, with an old, crinkled photograph of a young man clipped to the front.

Everything comes crashing back down in that moment, his high from pranking L dissipating like it had never been there at all. The detective, himself, thanks the two investigators and starts filling them in on what evidence Obito has presented to him against Light. Not telling them about the Uchiha’s status in this world, however.

Obito, instead of listening further to the conversation, is holding the first in the set of files. Unsure is he should read them or not. Or if he even _wants_ to. Because Hisao had never really talked much about his past – none of them had. It was like a silent agreement; only a few details shared. And he isn’t sure if he should break that or not. It isn’t a matter of tarnishing the man’s memory, because he will always be the grumpy old counterfeiter who took Obito in. It’s more of a conscious respect that he holds towards the criminal and his secrets. Which, as a shinobi, is nearly never heard of. Secrets and blackmail, and any information possibly gathered on either the living or dead is vital for a ninja and their village. One missed detail can mean the difference between life and death, after all.

But even Cho – who makes a living off of knowing everything about everyone – had confided in Obito that she never sought anything on the man. One of only three people that she trusted – one of whom died years ago, and now another has been lost, Obito being the last on that short list.

And Hisao had never questioned much about Obito’s past, even with the reveal of the rinnegan, and his sudden jump into the role of vigilante for higher.

So it feels… wrong to do this.

"What’s out next move?" Aizawa asks as Rin taps Obito's shoulder to get his attention back onto the room.

"When Light-kun wakes up we will confront him," L explains, picking up the notebooks in that strange fashion of his. "For now we will check every name written in these with known victims."

"What about the second Kira?"

"She had been detained and is currently awaiting questioning," Watari answers for the detective as the elder man comes into the room baring four cups of tea and a copious amount of sugar. The two investigators offer small ‘thank you’s’ for both the drinks and the information.

"Yagami-san won't be happy," Ukita tells them, tone cautious.

"No father would be," L's monotone voice counters. Which is true, no parent wants to hear their child is a mass murderer Obito surmises. And for the first time in what feels like forever he wonder what his own parents think of him as they watch from the pure land. What they could possibly think of his actions when trying to take over the world. Probably nothing close to prideful or positive.

The names all match with known victims, and unknown as well. But that isn't what catches the investigators attentions, not even the rules outlined on the back of the front cover outweigh the striking discovery.

"Kira can kill with more than a heart attack," Aizawa whispers out, and the Uchiha can't really place his tone - frustrated, awed, annoyed, fearful, all of the above?

"It seems so," L replies simply. "This is the missing piece."

Obito finds it fascinating to watch the three puzzle together the last connections needed to convict Light. Reading through the Death Note and seeing the entries for Ray Penber and the bus incident, as well as Naomi. The fact Light was on the bus that same day with Agent Penber and Naomi had run into Light at the police station when trying to report to the task force. It all comes together perfectly as they make calls and request video footage.

The answers stuttering into focus little by little and then all at once.

And if that night – after Aizawa and Ukita have fainted from sleep deprivation – L joins Obito in the soft expanse of sheets and pillows that is the hotel bed? And if the next morning when the sun peaks through the curtains it shows Obito has curled into the detective’s side, arm draped across his stomach, with long fingers running a soothing pattern through white-locks? Well… no one needs to know.

By the end of that day they have more than enough to put Light away.

And what's more is that Light is just waking up - the boy having slept for longer than Obito had initially anticipated, perhaps the doctors had given him some form of medication that prolonged his sleep - as they are organizing said evidence.

So they head to the hospital to inform the remainder of the task force as well as arrest Kira.

Finally.

The entire place smells like bleach and old curtains, an artificially clean sent that would give Obito a headache if he were to stay too long. Aizawa and Ukita are the first two that enter the room – and in hindsight that maybe wasn’t the _best_ idea – and have a visibly startled reaction to the large creature hovering next to the boy’s bed. Freezing with fear written across their faces and a scream muffled by the clenching of their throats from the adrenaline rush telling them to run.

L enters next, followed closely by Obito – and really he was expecting more of a reaction from the detective. You know, the same one that fell out of his chair at the mere _mention_ of Shinigami. But there is none.

Light is sitting straight up in bed, eyeing everything that is going on and trying to remain calm even as his mask – the pinnacle of emotional repression – starts to crack with the realization that they can see his contract holder.

“Aizawa-san,” L calls out, and the sound of his voice seems to snap the man out of his daze, “please handcuff Light-kun.”

The boy’s father speaks out before the investigator can move to complete the command, his face hard with suppressed rage and confusion. “What is the meaning of this, Ryuzaki?”

“I am arresting Kira,” L states. Simple. Straight forward and undeniably the truth if the panic on Light’s face is anything to go by. However quickly covered up it is, his eyes proceed to flash with surprise and anger, fear mixing strongly with a rebellious need to snake his way out of the situation.

“What evidence do you have,” Yagami-san demands.

“These.” L states, holding up the two notebooks, “The murder weapons.”

“And more,” Obito adds on, because he can’t resist the urge to push that panic in Light further. Even if it does earn him a sharp glance from L.

“Notebooks?” Matsuda asks, confused. The newbie reaching out and touching the two objects with curious misunderstanding. The second his eyes lift off of them, however, he lets out a scream. “What the hell is that?!”

"It's a Shinigami," Obito explains simply to the shocked investigator.

"A Shinigami?" Matsuda whimpers out, taking a few staggering steps back.

“What are you talking about?” The chief demands, “There’s nothing there.”

“Please,” L says, holding out the notebooks. “Touch these and you’ll understand.”

The hitching of the man’s breathe as he does so and the widening of his eyes lets the nervous butterflies in Obito’s stomach settle. Everything is going as planned thus far.

The Shinigami, seeming to comprehend that everyone can now see it raises a hand. The action makes everyone stiffen and a stretching grin pull further across sharp teeth. “Domo, name’s Ryuk,” the creature greets with a wave of his hand. Light shoots the Shinigami a withering glare, confusing the Uchiha. In fact, the whole situation confuses him. Don’t they hold a contract together? Why wouldn’t the creature attack to protect Light if that is the case? Shouldn’t the Shinigami be helping Light, not making things more difficult for him?

Obito nods towards it, noting to think on this observation later, "It's how Light got that notebook." He points at it as he speaks, "If he writes a name in it and pictures a face then that person will die."

"But there's two books," Matsuda frowns.

"Because the second Kira gave hers to him," the Uchiha huffs out, watching everything go down with a small vindictively victorious smile.

"You know who the second kira is," Yagami-san states, not a question but a fact that the detective has concluded with a hundred percent surety.

"A model named Amane Misa," he announces for the benefit of the chief and newbie who haven’t been fully informed.

"But she wasn't on any of the videos," Matsuda says with a tugging frown. "We would have noticed such a big star, and she would have drawn a crowd."

"She disguised herself." Rolling his eyes wasn't exactly needed but he felt justified with how obvious the answer was.

It's then that Light snaps into action, clearly having made a decision about how he would handle his sudden set of events. "How do we know you didn't place the notebooks in my room!?" The boy bites out rabidly. "It would have been easy to copy my handwriting and plant my finger prints."

And _oh_ , so Light is pushing that if he loses the Death Note then it's Obito going down as Kira. Or, really, that if he's going down then Obito is too, one way or another. Believing so little that the Uchiha isn't willing to give up his own place in this game should it truly come down to it – or that he already hasn’t done so. Underestimating the amount of evidence that they have been able to gather since his genjutsu induced coma started.

"I'm not Kira," Obito snorts out, crossing his arms. Eyes dancing with acceptance to Light's challenge.

"Then how'd you know where the notebooks were?" Light snaps back.

"Because," Obito says simply, "I broke into your room and found them while I was searching it. It wasn't until I next saw you that I realized you had to touch the notebook to see the Shinigami in all their..." he glanced in the direction of the creature swiftly, before finishing lamely, "glory."

He knows that he just admitted to something entirely illegal and that it will soon come to the chief’s attention that he must have done this recently - within the time that he has been cuffed in order to have the information he does. And he will subsequently have to explain how the hell he managed to be in two places at once, revealing... just about everything. Because not even L is enough to vouch for his actions or for the magical appearance of evidence.

Before anyone can say a word Ryuk laughs in the background, shiver-inducing voice ringing in the room, "So you figured it all out, _little shinobi_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before any of you ask – they did not have sex during that scene where L and Obito where in the same bed together. This is only pre-slash.


	12. Final Reel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Ello my ever-lovely readers!
> 
> Sooooo… college…. yeah. I really just wanted to get htis up before midterms start next week, so if this chapter seems a bit rushed it's because it is.
> 
> Well, it’s been some time since I updated this, but I hope you enjoy the chapter! And – I’ll be posting a new story with an Obito/Kakashi pairing that’s actually a Pirates AU – it should be up somewhat soon. And I have ideas for other stories as well – both shorter and longer, so they should be up eventually too!
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter! Hope you enjoy! And please review!

 

Obito goes wide eyed; the sentence taking time to process fully in his head – heart hammering in his chest a thousand miles a minute lost on the tangent of adrenaline his mind decided to subject his body to. _‘Little Shinobi,’_ that is what the Shinigami called him. _‘Shinobi,_ ’ a term he has not heard once outside a reference to the ‘Naruto’ series. Because no one has any purpose in using the term in this reality, no reason to bring up the title when they don’t even _exist_ here – the Uchiha being the only one. Which means…

“What do you know?” The question comes out as a commanding growl, the guttural voice ringing loudly in the white room. He would have stepped forward, held a blade against the beast’s neck should Rin’s hand have not settled onto his shoulder. Everyone is looking between the two, curious gazes sliding from figure to figure. It is the second time in three days that the investigators have seen him bend to the point of almost breaking from the force of anger and anxiety induced panic. Obito doesn’t even realize his killing intent has risen enough that the investigators in the room have started to notice until L’s hand joins Rin’s and brings his mind back enough to focus.

The Shinigami simply chuckles again, a sound the Uchiha is quickly beginning to resent. “I only know there is something different about you.”

 “But you called me _shinobi,_ ” Obito accuses, tearing the sound from the back of his throat and forcing it through his teeth.

“I heard Light-kun say it,” Ryuk waves off with a lying grin. All but giving away that he has spent time around Light and that the boy is, in fact, Kira. But that point means little to the white-haired shinobi at this moment. Instead it rises his hackles and cause the hair on the back of his neck to bristle, chakra flaring in warning. He’s a _shinobi_ , and Shinigami or not, he is trained to tell a lie when he sees one – the beast hadn’t even _tried_ to cover it up at that. If anything it’s an insult towards his skill; an underestimation.

L steps even closer to him the hand tightening its grip till the detective’s knuckles are white – Obito spins, chakra ready to set a genjutsu and then pull him into his own dimension; to escape, to give him time to plan and execute a carefully thought-out series of events leading to Light’s death. Because at this rate _everyone_ is going to know _everything_ – not _just_ that he’s the Akatsuki; that they can deal with but _everything._ And L had all but ordered Obito to stay quiet about his status as being from another dimension. But his eyes lock with L’s in that moment and the detective looks more understanding and calm than upset with a background of disapproval. He looks ready to back any decision Obito will make – to support him should he step away from their tentatively laid out plan.

That chuckle, again, cuts through the calm weaving out a peaceful thump to his heart, the waning panic and adrenaline shooting back into the levels of danger once more. “And it was just getting interesting.”

He very nearly snaps then because playing with people’s lives like this is what he used to do and it took a blonde hero to break him from the distorted idea that it was a _proper_ and _justifiable_ thing to do. And now a _kami_ is doing just that, laughing about it, finding humor in the deconstruction and murder of people’s very being. Obito isn’t entirely able to pinpoint what it is in that scenario that angers him so deeply, just that is _does_. And he has been ruled by his emotions for the majority of his life, breaking from the habit is easier said than done, yet he tries – strangles the want to wipe the creature’s existence from this reality. Because there is _so much_ that he still needs to know and this God of death may very well be his only means to obtaining all the pieces of the puzzle.

“How much do you know?” Obito grinds out, chakra rushing into the coils surrounding his eyes and making them ache with the urge to let his sharingan activate.

“Enough,” the creature stretches his smile further, hovering smugly by Light’s bed. But enough doesn’t mean everything so there is the chance – thin as it is – that the Shinigami only knows he is a shinobi and doesn’t belong to this world; perhaps that is all. Yet… when has his life ever been that simple?

If he were to ever pull a foolishly reckless improvisation off enough that the fates would shine upon his guilty soul now would be the perfect time.

Now would be the optimal time to pull out some wildly impossible trick and make it _work_ when by all logical explanation everything should go wrong. Now would be a time to take a page from Naruto’s book. Perhaps more literally than L would like.

He lets the caged chakra flow.

It’s like a damn bursting, the energy rushes fast and hot into his eyes and the backlash of overloading them will come when this is over and he has enough time to focus on other things than a creature of death. The eyepatch falls next, tomoe spinning slowly along the ripples of his rinnegan bared for all to see. The Uchiha ignores the startled gasps from the other investigators and the whispered name of his dojutsu from the newbie. He really can only hope that this will work. That if the rinnegan can subject death to the user’s will then logically shouldn’t it be able to control a God of Death enough to force the truth?

“That only works on our king, little shinobi,” the beast snickers, beady red orbs alight with laughter at the Uchiha’s expense.

Or not.

Because that’s how Obito’s life works, apparently.

A scowl spreads over his already frustrated expression. Can’t he ever catch just one break, to just let something work out with his plans?

“I-I don’t understand,” Yagami-san finally speaks up, “why does the… the,” he regards the creature in speculation, gaze wary and confused. “Shinigami… keep calling you ‘little shinobi’? A-and your eyes…”

“Because he’s actually Ushiba Okura,” Light cuts in before anyone else can say a word.

“The character?” Matsuda questions just as Obito snorts out a growl of offense.

“I’m _Uchiha Obito_ ,” and he will _never_ let anyone say otherwise. Not again. “The book got my name wrong.”

“I still don’t…” Yagami-san starts but trails off, bewilderment and perhaps a little bit of refusal to understand shadowing his face.

Obito gives a wane smile, glancing to the side at L to gage whether or not what he is about to say is okay with the detective or not. When he is met with no disagreement – which really the man’s gaze is blank but Obito takes it as a go-ahead anyway – the Uchiha answers. “Uchiha Obito, S-rank missing-nin from Konohagakure and leader of the criminal organization Akatsuki which aims to bring peace to the Elemental Nations by collecting the nine tailed beasts and putting the world under an illusion.” He pauses, “Or, at least, that’s who I was before I woke up in an alley in this dimension.”

“Dimension?” The chief asks weakly, eyes already wide with disbelief.

He gives a short, tight nod, bringing a hand up to point at his spinning red eye. “My sharingan gives me the ability to jump through different dimensions. But I can’t seem to get back and I don’t know how I even got here.”

“You can thank your ghost friend for that,” the Shinigami – Ryuk, he had called himself – proclaims, one long spindly arm moving to point an equally grotesque claw over his shoulder.

“Rin?” Obito blinks, pulling his eyebrows together as he follows the direction to let his gaze fall on his old teammate, her brown orbs wide with equal parts a nervous tick and worry.

“Your old teammate?” Matsuda ventures in wonderment, a tilt to his head and faraway look in his eyes that suggests he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Obito pays the whispers no mind, the sudden influx of small chattering voices that mix together drawing conclusions of their own most likely farther from the truth then any would like to admit. But before he can even begin to form a cohesive question from the whirlwind of inquiries circling his mind a bony purple figure morphs through the sickly-white wall of the hospital room causing everyone to tense.

Obito meets Rem’s uncovered eye. “Shinigami.”

“Traveler.” Her eyes move to the other god of death, “Ryuk.”

“Rem,” the blue creature offers a wave, “I was just telling him about how his ghostly friend is the reason he’s here.”

One yellow orb slides over with a haughty tilt to the Shinigami’s head. “Oh? He hasn’t figured it out yet?”

“Apparently not,” he grinds through his teeth, eyes narrowed as they fall back onto his brown haired friend.

“Obito I was going to tell you…” she starts, biting her lip and refusing to meet his gaze, “it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I thought you would be mad and do something stupid, okay!?” She snaps, “I tried to bring you back from the pure-world but our dimension rejected it and we ended up here.”

“Why would I be mad at that?” Obito frowns, maybe a year or so ago he would have felt differently, with his death wish and want to repent through the sacrifices of his life. But now he has built up a home here, tentative as it has suddenly become, and he’s _happy_ for it. Grateful. “Rin, you saved my life, why would I be mad?”

She crosses her arms with a huff, “Because I gave up the majority of my chakra and place in the reincarnation cycle to do it.”

“Y-you what?” He says weakly, face going paler he swivels his head around to stare imploringly at the two Shinigami, “Can she do that?”

“This is not a matter of our world, Traveler,” Rem intones solemnly, voice detached with little care towards Obito’s rising anxiety.

“Obito, it’s okay,” Rin forces his gaze back around with her words, “I knew you didn’t want to die, and you had made it so far that I felt you deserved another chance.” Her smile is a warm, eye-closing tilt of her thin lips. Loving with a gentle edge he has only ever received when she was healing his wounds.

“But-“

“No ‘but’s’,” Rin holds a finger to his lips to silence him, “I made my choice, and I’m happy with it. Although…” she pauses long enough to look up and let her brown orbs meet Rem’s, “I don’t understand why I followed him to this dimension.”

“Because the Traveler has a lot of guilt in his soul.” Rem rumbles out a curt explanation, “Until you accept your failures she will remain.” Obito feels his heart squeeze at the mention of his inability to let go of all that he has done and the injustices he had committed in the name of a false peace.

Slit-yellow slides away then, uncaring of whatever emotional distress may have just been caused, the shift induces a bone-chillingly intense drop in temperature as Light comes within Rem’s range of sight. “You have broken your word, human.”

Light’s eyes tighten, a rolling tension in his muscles so obvious even a civilian could see it, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Misa-san has been taken.”

“I had no part in her capture,” Light counters.

“It does not matter,” the Shinigami maintains plainly, the air in the room dropping further, making a few of them shiver.

“How are you even here?” Obito suddenly bursts out asking, because he can think on what Rin has confessed to when they aren’t facing down death itself. Because compartmentalizing has come in handy over the years of planning and manipulation. Because he has never seen the Shinigami leave their contractor’s side more than a few feet – didn’t even think it was _possible_.

Rem’s eyes fall back onto him, he meets her single orb squarely with his own; the silent threat of chakra hums beneath his skin. “She has given up the Death Note. She remembers nothing.”

The room falls into silence amongst the investigators as they process and fully understand the significance of what has just befallen the model.

“And I have come here to keep my word,” the purple creature continues, boney structure creaking as it shifts towards Light.

“What word?” L speaks up, stepping forward to stand before the Shinigami. Tilting his head back to stare up at the creature with a blank face and a gaze that all but commands the God of Death answer his inquiry. His thin, hunched over figure looking less than small when standing against the towering height and bulk of Rem.

Obito’s instincts twitched with the need to _protect_.

“Yagami Light gave his word that no harm would come to Amane Misa.”

“You mean the second Kira?”

“That is insignificant.” Rem intones, “Light has failed to keep his word and has no means of insuring her safety. So he will die.”

 “What!?” Yagami-san yells in shock, body beginning to shake.

“Matsuda-san, get Yagami-san out of here,” L orders eyes never leaving the Shinigami’s.

“I-I… but…” Matsuda stutters out shrinking back, unsure of what to do when met with daring look the chief gives him.

“Matsuda!” Obito snaps, because he knows that look in the chief’s eyes, has seen in before when he was taking the lives of his clan and parents would beg him to spare their children – to end their existence and let their baby live.

The newbie scrambles to comply.

“Light-kun will face justice through the system set by this land’s laws and serve his punishment for his crimes.” The dark-haired detective informs the purple creature as if there is no room for argument or further discussion on the topic. Though the insomniac doesn’t bare it worthy to mention that the boy will most likely be executed for his actions as Kira. Obito holds back a sigh – it seems justice must be served anyway. Although he doesn’t see how the boy dying now would be any less justice than if he were to die later, either way he will be revealed as being Kira and be incapable of taking any more lives. So what does it matter when the boy dies? Besides, the faster it happens the happier everyone will be and the less worried about escape the Uchiha will feel.

Rem, the Shinigami’s expression not changing in the slightest, stares down at the detective, red eyes meeting slate-grey, a testing look in the powerful gaze.

“You will release Amane Misa.” The creature asserts.

“I can’t,” L deadpans, “she must face justice as well.”

“You would convict someone who remembers nothing?”

“How do I know you are not lying?”

“I give you my word,” Rem states, as if the sentence is enough – and in the old days it would have been, but this is a modern society where words are broken daily. And Obito came from a reality where stabbing someone in the back was made into an art form of the highest order.

L’s lip twitches down for a half-second, between one blink and the next, the detective obviously concluding that out-right claiming distrust of the creature’s word to be not only ineffective but dangerous. So, instead, he moves to another method. “Whether she remembers or not she wrote those names in that book.”

“Then Yagami Light shall die.”

“I can’t allow you to do that.”

“You cannot stop me, human,” a threat hangs heavy on those words, stringing along a red rope that ties itself snuggly against L’s neck with the threat to pull at any moment. Before it can even tighten enough for the detective to notice Obito steps forward, breaking the connection. His eyes itch with every movement closure to the creature – even if they stand to be unable to control the beasts directly.

“But I can,” he meets the creature’s piercing glare, rinnegan bared, tomoe spinning with a promise along the ringlets of black that form like ripples against his left eye’s surface.

Rem looks at him, then over his shoulder at the dark-haired detective and back again. “That eye can only do so much, Traveler.”

“It can do enough.”

“Amane Misa is set free,” the Shingami repeats, “or I will be back.”

The creature phases through the wall and leaves the room with its final threat heavy on their shoulders.

Obito lets out a breath of air, thankful that the situation hadn’t escalated like his instincts were planning for. But the fearful anger rises then, because L _just had to threaten a Shinigami._ A _God of Death_. And yes, Obito could have brought him back, but that’s _not_ the point, damn it! The Uchiha has had enough of his precious people dying he doesn’t need another to do the same – no matter how temporary.

Spinning on his heal the Uchiha levels a glare at L, “What the hell was that!? Why would you challenge a _Shinigami_!?”

“I could not allow them to kill Light-kun,” L says simply, voice monotone as if everything were obvious, and maybe in the detective’s head it is but standing up against a creature of death has no justification in any sane person’s train of thought. Obito almost smacks himself then, because when has L ever been sane? When has he ever been sane either?

“And I could have brought him back,” he counters, eyes narrowing.

“As interesting as this is,” Aizawa cuts in, tone dry, “aren’t we in the middle of arresting someone here?”

Obito froze, realization of how close their faces have gotten since their disagreement started finally setting in. A blush rises thickly over his cheeks from the unexpected and completely unexplainable wave of heat in the room. Shuffling away with a sudden and baffling inability to even _look_ at the detective the Uchiha mumbles out a half-hearted apology.

It is Aizawa and Ukita who gain the honor of handcuffing Kira to the bed until he is released, at which time the boy will face trial for his crimes and most likely by sentenced to death. In the meantime there have been orders given to have the room searched, as well as Light himself – two guards are to be stationed in the room and two guards outside of the room as well as a litany of extra security cameras placed throughout the hospital. No one is taking any chances that the mass murdering wanna-be-god will escape.

The moment L and the Uchiha shut the door of the sleek black vehicle – leaving Ukita and Aizawa stationed to guard Light until the officially detailed team arrives – Obito lets out a small huff of air, “What are we going to do about Amane Misa?”

It’s the question of the hour, seeing as their lives are threatened should they see her imprisoned but justice for all the lives taken won’t be served unless she meets her deserved punishment. And in a world where justice is as to his reality’s peace letting her go would be an atrocity of the highest caliber.

“She will be arrested,” Obito knew the detective’s answer before he even asked the question – he was simply hoping that the man would prove him wrong.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he counters with more teeth than maybe was necessary.

“Have you ever wondered what a human life is worth?” L asks, causing Obito to blink in confusion at the strange question.

“I’m a shinobi,” he states simply, and that should be answer all in itself. He knows well enough what lives are worth, seen them sent onto a battle field without hope for return, seen children raised into monsters. Watched wars raze nations and created some himself.

He’s a shinobi. The world falls apart for him on a daily basis. He knows how much a life is worth – had been handed mission after mission scroll dictating just that.

He’s a shinobi. He has taken lives, coated his hands in red so thick that any who try to risk its washing would sooner drown than find any source of humanity. He knows how much a life is worth – Rin’s was worth Obito’s loyalty and heart. Minato’s was worth revenge. The fields of bones piled high with weapons and streams of blood flooding the very trees that grew from the soil of Konoha’s grounds served as payment for a village and temporary peace.

“Then you should know everything has its price. Even justice,” the detective looks at him with piercing grey-eyes, the kind that dig into the bottom of your soul and see everything. The kind that only dead men walking have – the ones who have accepted their fate.

“So you’re saying that justice is worth your life?” Obito stresses, anger boiling in his veins.

“You thought peace was worth the world,” Rin’s calm voice echoes from his side. The Uchiha’s mouth clicks shut, flashes of a red, red hand covered thick with crimson dripping to the sound of a body hitting the ground. Silver hair flashing in the specks of light making it past the canopy of trees and the splattered face of Rin laid bare, with glazed eyes – soul taken by death. The crippling crunch of rocks, clashing boulders crumbling around him and the feel of hitting another so that their fate shall be saved. Cold, cold rocks closing in, scratchy bandages his only source of warmth. The pain, retching, withering tangle of nerves screaming for relief; the smell of smoke and ozone breaking into his lungs that don’t _want_ to breathe because there is _so much_ chakra and if he lets go then he will _lose_ himself.

“That’s different,” he whispers out, a shadow of his memories trailing along the taste of the words that roll over his tongue like a prayer.

“Baka,” the girl smacks him over the head, making him rub the spot petulantly, “how is it any different!?”

“I know I was wrong now!” He huffs, glaring back at his ghostly friend as she crosses her arms and raises a brow.

“I agree with Rin,” L states suddenly, pulling the Uchiha’s attention from his teammate.

“You can’t even hear her,” he deadpans, ignoring the cheer that the brown-haired girl gives.

“But I can deduct from your reaction that she agrees with me.”

Obito scowls, “I’m not letting you give up your life to put away a girl that can’t even remember what she did.”

“You could bring me back, could you not?”

“That’s not the point,” he stresses, “you’re throwing away your life. What happened to valuing our lives? And what if I don’t get there in time, what if you die and I can’t-“ cutting off abruptly he swallows the strange closing lump in his throat. He doesn’t _want_ to lose someone else, even if it’s only for a little while, even if he can save them. The heart-breaking sight of another of his precious people lifeless might very well break him again. Hisao’s demise already left cracks.

L eyes soften as they stare into the Uchiha’s lost and desperate ones. “I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.” But he’s been alive long enough, lived through enough that he knows that anything could happen and therefore it’s best to be prepared. So he isn’t buying it, not for a second, because the last time he told someone that, the last times he promised nothing would go wrong, everything did.

“Obito,” L intones, “stop worrying.”

He lets out a grumble, not audible to even himself, but he doesn’t say another word on the subject.

At least.

Until they reach the hotel room.

“So you’re not going to arrest her, right?”

“We don’t have a choice,” L looks at him flatly, “justice must be served.”

“But she can’t even remember she did it,” he argues, “so how will putting her in prison do any good when she won’t know why she’s there?”

“You are arguing for a criminal. For the second Kira.”

Obito frowned at that; so what? He himself is a criminal, he works with criminals. Besides, the girl can’t remember anything, she gave up those memories, and that doesn’t make it any better for those who lost their lives and loved ones thanks to her actions. Doesn’t bring those people back to life. But… but…

He’s starting to sound like Naruto. Defending those who have done evil, who have killed without reason and trying to… what? Save them? He lets out a sigh.

“I’m a criminal.”

L remains silent at the declaration. Staring off into the fluffy white swirls of icing decorating a slice of cake he had acquired near immediately when the entered the room. The acquisition of a sweet confection second only to removing his shoes.

“You’re from another world.”

“It doesn’t make me any less of a murderer.”

“Are you trying to get yourself arrested, Obito?” L’s voice lilts in such a way that the Uchiha hasn’t heard before – can barely even describe let alone place. His brows furrow, however, because they both know that even if he were to be arrested there isn’t a single jail in this reality that could hold him.

“I assumed I already was,” he says, because that’s true too – Obito admitted to being a wanted criminal. In two worlds at that. So why wouldn’t he be under arrest?

“No,” L lets out a breath, eyes sharpening then with a hard edge of annoyance, “you weren’t. At least until you exposed yourself in front of everyone.”

“I- what?” He asks in confusion.

“I was going to bring you on as a criminal consultant,” L explains. “Now it’s going to be-“

L doesn’t finish his sentence, an investigator that the Uchiha doesn’t recognize enters the hotel room cutting off the detective with long but wary strides speaking of covered up nerves. Matsuda – looking forlorn and slightly sorry – follows in behind the unknown woman.

Obito would be lying if he said he wasn’t expecting this. Just… not so soon.

“Uchiha Obito, you are under arrest.”

 


	13. After Image

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ello my ever-lovely readers!
> 
> Long time no talk…. Sorry about that. But I do have some good news! I have four to five stories lined up to be posted (honestly mostly in the view of Obito because he seems to talking A LOT recently – one of them should be in the view of Sakura though, because I love her too and she and Ino are so cute together and there needs to be more good lesbian fics out there with plausible sex scenes).
> 
> And I've recently gotten back into DRRR! so I might be posting something (crossover? maybe?) with that fandom.
> 
> Anyway, enough about all of that; here's the final chapter! I hope you guys enjoy and that it answers all of the remaining questions you may have. Feel free to PM or comment if there is still anything you're wondering about but I really hope I cover it with this!
> 
> Without further ado! ENJOY MY LOVELY READERS, ENJOY!

 

Between one leap and the next he is in his own dimension, already stripping down out of his usual shinobi gear and into the civilian clothes that have been acquired for him. In mere seconds he is phasing back into existence, startling white walls and tiled floor cool under foot, light shining with a vengeance that hurts his eyes – now used to the darker shades of the city at night. Taking a glance down at the watch on his wrist a spike of cold sweat hits him hard in the gut.

His shadow clone should have been here two minutes ago.

Unless he was found out.

Which is a worrying possibility, having left two hours prior to deal with the recent… nuisance, slandering Akatsuki's name with their shoddy reformation of his own wardrobe and subpar abilities. He refused to let the imposter survive longer than the past week. And really, who would be so pathetic as to think that hiding behind his good name and dragging it through the dirt wouldn't draw out consequences?

Well, they found themselves sorely mistaken. The pure fear that radiated from the copy-cat had been palpable as soon as Tobi had made his presence known. The Uchiha had to give the fool credit for having tried to stick with the act and claim themselves the Akatsuki. They had gone down pathetically, however, not even able to brave a d-ranked genjutsu without collapsing. The police had shown themselves soon after, deeming the timing right for their appearance. And in one leap and the next Obito found himself in his current position.

Bare feet on cold tile, waiting for a clone that hasn't popped.

Heart-rate sky rocketing the Uchiha begins a silent pacing back and forth, nibbling on his bottom lip with a tugging frown. Rin hovers, eyes following Obito's movements but she doesn't reach out – it has been a mere few months since she started to lose her vibrant colours, and a mere week since her hand started sinking through his shoulder more than resting upon it. Fear of the limb passing through entirely ceasing her movements of comfort.

He knows that it's a step forward, a movement in his self-forgiveness for sins that only those he damned could ever repent him of, but losing Rin hurts all the same. Feels like a punishment for not holding on to the guilt permitting his past so strongly – and perhaps it is, in a sense, because Rin was what he was trying to gain back through all his actions. To have her and lose her once more is nothing short of torturous even if he has moved on from his romantic love.

He closes his eyes for a half-step and when he opens them again the slight gathering of – frustrated, pained, lost – tears is gone. The Uchiha knows he needs to focus, because something  _must_ have gone wrong with the lack of rushing memories or the opening of the cream-white door. Focus and think of a plan of action; he always has contingencies… or, well, he  _normally_ has contingencies upon contingencies with backups to the backups that pile into themselves and interconnect to form more of a web than a cohesive list of steps to take. But he hadn't this time; at least not for the final leg of this series of events, because he hadn't thought to need one and even if he did there wasn't a conceivable one available at the split second decision that brought him to where he is.

Really, the last straw for that copy-cat was struck with her most recent calling of attention.

The near inaudible sound of the doorknob turning makes the Uchiha turn his next step into a fluid motion that forms his body into a viably protective positioning appropriate for the small space. The tension building in his head is not matched by his body – he's too experienced for that. The clicking continues, with each incremental turn of the knob. Slow, as if the party on the other side is trying to delay the inevitably of a situation Obito has only a guessing as to the circumstances of.

He doesn't like what guesses he makes.

None of them lean in his favor.

He has just enough time to suck in a breath through his nose before the last click sounds and his instincts are screaming in preparation.

The cream-white wooden barrier swings its last few feet outward, revealing dark blue jeans tightly plastered to long legs that lead to a red shirt pulled over a thin waist. Red stained lips remain stationary as black-boarder eyes sparkle with excitement and… a knowing confirmation.

"Cho," he greats, releasing his stance, trying to sound casual and not like she had walked past an exact copy of himself two rooms over. A hand rises to rub at the back of his neck when the dark-haired woman's lips start to pull into a smirk. One that is soon lost with the roll of her eyes and a long-suffering sigh. "I can explain?"

Without a word she steps into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. The sound of a lock snapping into place makes his heart-rate settle to a few beats slower than racing.

She looks him up and down, not a word leaving her, gaze scrutinizing his figure.

The next thing he knows a fist is coming at him, and the Uchiha is too shocked to actually block the surprisingly strong attack. It hits his shoulder, and he knows that it won't leave a bruise, nor will it hurt for more than the time is takes her to brush the waves of locks out of her face and let out a huff of air. "So you're the real one."

He blinks. Once. Twice. Before letting out a groan, "You could have just  _asked_ you know."

"That wouldn't have been nearly as fun," she waves off, hand going to rest on her hip. "So you took out that copy-cat. How'd it go?"

Of course she would figure it out.

"Fine," he frowns, "does-"

"Probably."

"Shit."

"Yep."

"I might as well just-"

"Most likely."

"But what if-"

She doesn't even have to say anything, just level a gaze at him with an  _'are you seriously going to ask that,'_ look. He groans, letting his head to fall into his hands, "You're right."

"Of course I am," she crosses her arms as if there was ever even a debate about her accuracy. And really, in her defense she's an informant and therefore part of her job description is being correct.

Resignation fills him with a dread – not for whatever punishment is deemed worthy of being dealt out, but purely because this is the second time his plan has failed. There scores now standing at four to two. They're catching up – and at a quicker rate than the Uchiha would like. Than  _any_ s-class shinobi would like. But there is little he can do but evolve to produce better, more complex, more infallible plans.

He should probably make his way to the main room, accept his fate and get the entire situation over with. But he's a ninja, has been trained for years to keep a lie going no matter how much evidence the other party has otherwise; lie and lie until the last minute – and then you fight. And maybe, just maybe, the world will shine a bit of luck on him and they actually  _don't_ know yet that Obito sent a shadow clone to the room earlier. Maybe he could just-

"Oh, get on with it already," Cho exaggerates, shoving the Uchiha out the bathroom and locking the door shut behind her with an indignant huff and muttered complaint about a lady needing her privacy. He would just phase back into the room but Cho would get her revenge later with increasingly creative methods until Obito begged for forgiveness. Besides, all the chance he had crumbles pathetically at his feet with the loud ringing slam that sounded through the hotel room with the closing of the white door. There is no way that they hadn't heard that, and no way they wouldn't be able to piece together the fact that the Uchiha is back – because Cho is  _silent_ more often than not, only drawing attention to herself when she wants to be seen. Only making sound when she wants to be heard.

She would make an amazing shinobi. Obito hopes she never finds a way to his dimension – he's not sure they would survive.

Shuffling over as quietly as he possibly can the Uchiha hovers in the entrance to the other room, unsure of his next move, mostly out of embarrassment at getting caught and having to admit so openly to that. Pausing there, he eyes the back of L's chair that he can see from his vantage point, a mop of black hair shocking over the creamy surface. Next to the imposing chair sits his clone, and despite Obito's acting skills the bunshin's body is tense with anticipation – obviously concluding what is about to happen. With a shuttering breath he wills his feet to move, but the floor has come up and stolen any momentum he could have created. Trying to flush the strange squirming in his stomach out the Uchiha shifts from foot to foot, considering the option of simply leaving and waiting until later in the night when his clone is changing for bed. Before he can go through with this new plan the detective's voice broaches the distance between them and tightens the noose that has tied around Obito's neck.

"You shouldn't just hover in the door, Obito-kun." He shrinks slightly into himself at that particular pronunciation of his name, because it only comes out when L is disappointed in him. It's the same voice the detective used when he found out that Obito had utilized his sharingan to sway the vote on whether Misa should be kept in prison or put on a dauntingly strict probation.

But was what Obito did this time really all that bad in either situation? The first was a simple stretch of knowing that Misa being arrested would lead to nothing but confusion on her part and indignation on her fans’. And it wasn’t like the Uchiha had to even _do_ much, most of the voters had already swayed towards the probation anyway, he only had to push two more and in the end they weren’t even really needed. In the present situation he had taken out a threat that was  _killing_ people; innocent people at that. And he himself had left the perpetrator of such acts to be dealt with by the police – he was aiding justice if anything. With this new resolution the white-haired shinobi lets the jutsu holding his clone in place release, the puff of smoke shrouding the creamy fabric stretched over a wooden frame that L has perched himself on.

In the seconds it takes for the cloud to disappear the Uchiha has taken his clone's place. A stubborn light electrifying his eyes. His tractor in the form of an ankle bracelet it handed to him, the detective obviously having taken it off of his clone. The device – that is pathetically easy to get out of – was the only way in which L was capable of convincing everyone that taking Obito from prison and making him work off his sentence as a consultant was a viable idea. Honestly the entire experience had been something interestingly new to the Uchiha – he's never been arrested before and in his world, should he have been caught it, would have meant his death instead.

A manila folder is handed to him too, the file thick with the stark word 'classified' stamped across the front like out of one those cheesy movies Cho drags them to see every once in a while. He knows the case they are currently solving goes a bit deeper than simply corrupt politicians but as he scans over the blacked out first page Obito can feel the weight of what they are doing finally settle on his shoulder. They may very well be facing an international conspiracy.

L must be ecstatic.

Especially after the last murder case they solved ended up being all too pathetically easy.

An hour goes by, Cho having arrived back in the room, and yet L still hasn't commented on his disappearance, nor the report on the news about the copy-cat being taken down and arrested. It's making his nerves explode with anticipation.

"Can't you just say it already?" Obito finally bursts, causing his two friends to turn their attention him. L blinks once slowly, gaze infuriatingly calm.

"Say what, Obito?" At least he isn't adding '-kun' at the end anymore the white-haired man surmises. He squirms in his seat nonetheless, flushing under L's weighted eyes.

But he's done this to himself and he will see it through, with a huff he crosses his arms, "That what I did was wrong, and I should have let the police deal with the copy-cat." The words come out slightly mumbled, a petulant grinding over his tongue to show his disbelief in the statement.

L doesn’t even spare a second of contemplation for what’s been said before back to continue cutting a piece of cake. "There was only a one percent chance that you would actually listen to me. I saw no point in wasting the breath when we have a case to solve."

Obito's arms uncross of their own accord, because what L says is true – Obito wouldn't have really listened, he would do the same exact thing when someone else stupid enough comes along. "So… I'm not in trouble?" He presses tentatively.

"I never said that," L answers, voice still deceptively calm as he looks back. The innocence that had spread over the detective's expression sends a chilling jolt down the Uchiha's spine.

Cho groans from the side, the roll of her eyes so strong Obito can  _feel_ it without even witnessing the act, "Can't you two save the bedroom talk  _for_ the bedroom?"

Obito  _does not_  flail. He's a  _shinobi_ , and shinobi don't flail. Nor do their voices squeak, "W-what?"

His surrogate sister's eyes are alight with mischief, lips surpassing a sadistic smirk for something that the Uchiha can't quiet pin down but it looks strangely odd against the spark in her eyes. Like she knows something – which, too be honest, when doesn't she? But this something is pertaining to Obito and to L and he wants to know, damn it. His gaze flickers to Rin, who is of no help with her hand held up covering her mouth to silence the laughter shaking her body.

But…

That’s okay.

Because Cho and L are as safe as Obito can possibly make them. Because the world isn’t ending and even though Rin is disappearing the Uchiha feels lighter, like a weight has lifted from his chest. It makes him contemplate if Rem had been correct; his soul is full of guilt. And even if he won’t be able to get rid of it entirely the crushing force of it lessons with each person he saves in this world. With every case he helps solve, and every day that goes by where he doesn’t paint another layer of blood onto his drowning hands.

He’s left his past behind, left an entire dimension; but he hasn’t abandoned it – never will. Can’t abandon what has made him who he is; Rin, Minato-sensei, Kakashi, Naruto. Those who have changed him. And maybe this world hasn’t gone perfectly, maybe he has lost people along the way; but it hasn’t broken him. He hasn’t let it.

And it’s okay.

It’s good, even.

And he thinks… that he will be okay too.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:: Before any of you say a thing: it is noted that the rinnegan does not take any chakra to keep activated on the wiki page explaining the dojutsu. So I'm going with it. And I'll try my best to use Japanese terms when talking about techniques but, seriously, no guarantees here.
> 
> And YES the whole Rin thing will be explained in time.


End file.
